Angel of Mine
by RemyDico5
Summary: Mycroft and Lestrade meet several times over the course of their lives but something always seems to stand in the way of their being together.
1. Chapter 1

Mycroft Holmes was not accustomed to pain. In fact, he'd lived such a sheltered and privileged life that the only pain he had ever encountered was the stomachache procured from gorging himself on the cook's raspberry trifle. There was, of course, the odd stubbing of the toe, a paper cut from turning book page too rigorously or the occasional jab from his obnoxious brother. And yet Mycroft had never felt pain like this.

A swift kick in the lower abdomen forced all the air from his lungs. The gravel of the sidewalk was crushing into the side of his face as one boy stood over him, a shoe on Mycroft's cheek, holding him down. His lip and nose were bleeding however he was certain these boys would not stop until every bit of him was bloody and broken.

"Faggot." One boy spat viciously as the toe of his boot connected with Mycroft's stomach. Mycroft lied very still, trapped underfoot of the leader of the group. He shut his eyes and tried to compartmentalize. He had always been top notch at cataloging his feelings and storing away the ones that were not helpful.

Then, from seemingly nowhere, an angel – a savoir – appeared. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" The boy asked the other three. Mycroft dared to open his eyes but the new arrival was standing just outside his line of sight.

"Shove off mate, this doesn't concern you." The leader said pressing his foot down heavily on Mycroft's skull. It took every once of self-control Mycroft had not to whimper in pain.

"Let him go."

"I said this doesn't concern you."

"Three against one. That's hardly fair odds, is it gents?"

"If you don't piss off, his problems are going to become your problems." The leader threatened.

Mycroft's angel of mercy stepped into view, a cocky smile playing on his lips. "I'm counting on it."

One of the boys stepped forward and the angel rocked back onto his heels before lunging forward and cracking his fist into the boy's face. The shoe on Mycroft's cheek lifted as the other two moved to attack. Mycroft unsteadily pushed himself up into a kneeling position, not quite able to stand just yet. He wanted to help but realized quickly that his assistance was not required. The young man was more than capable of handling himself.

Mycroft watched in awe as his angel beat the other two boys into submission. He was obviously a skilled fighter, blocking any punches the two tried to throw before retaliating. It was like watching a perfectly choreographed dance and the man moved with such speed and agility. Neither of the two assailants landed one punch and finally the three took off running in fear.

"Are you all right?" The angel was finally speaking to Mycroft, kneeling in front of him. The boy had brown hair that curled slightly, hidden under a grey flat cap. His brown eyes were warm, soft and kind. Mycroft had never seen anyone so beautiful.

"Nod if you're all right." The angel spoke again and Mycroft realize he hadn't answered the question.

Slowly he moved his head up and down before reaching into his pocket and grabbing his monogrammed handkerchief. He dabbed at his chin, where he had felt the blood trail down. He licked the cut on his lip, caused by a ring one of the thugs had worn. His injuries were superficial, as his attackers had been just getting started when the young man intervened. He shuddered to think what would have happened if they had continued uninterrupted.

"Here, let me." The boy said taking the cloth and gently pressing it to Mycroft's cheek, rubbing it slightly to get the dried blood off.

Mycroft looked up at the boy's hands. They were large and strong, slightly calloused and well worn. Used often with hard labor. A bit of engine grease told him mechanic.

He wondered if this boy would be so quick to help if he knew just why Mycroft had been the victim of an assault. It could be easily misconstrued, the sight of them kneeling together, the boy gingerly attending to Mycroft's wounds. The boy had unknowingly made himself a target. He might as well have painted a bullseye on his back. Those boys would return at some point, probably in greater numbers to extract their revenge. His angel had, in the course of helping Mycroft, endangered himself. Mycroft felt he should warn his rescuer, but he couldn't seem to be able to speak.

"They should be ashamed of themselves." The angel said bringing the handkerchief to his mouth and licking it to help clean the wounds. For a moment Mycroft was transfixed on that beautiful mouth, wanting to move close and press his lips them. But that would be highly inappropriate, wouldn't it? "They mussed up your pretty face."

Mycroft flushed a deep red, not sure if it was a compliment or a cruel joke. Mycroft knew he was many things; resourceful, cold, calculating, manipulative, brilliant, but he knew beauty was not listed among them. He searched the stranger's face for any hint of irony or malice but found none. His angel simply smiled and kept at his work, cleaning the blood away.

"Thank you." Mycroft said, finally getting his voice back.

"Ah, he speaks." The man's smile widened.

"You really shouldn't have done that. If they find out who you are, they'll come after you."

"Doubtful, I'm only in the city till tomorrow."

Mycroft tried his best to hide his disappointment. "Then it is most fortuitous that you chose to come to London on this day."

"I suppose it is."

For a moment the two of them stared at each other and the feeling came again, the one urging Mycroft to move forward and close the space between their bodies. It was like a magnetic pull and he wouldn't be able to resist much longer.

"Look, do you live around here? There's only so much I can do with spit and a single hanky."

Mycroft was glad for something else to focus on, something to call his attention away from the impulse to kiss the stranger before him. "Yes, my flat is only a few blocks away."

"Great, can you walk or do you need me to carry you?"

Mycroft blushed again but did his best not to acknowledge the embarrassment he felt. He had always been sensitive about his weight and having someone carry him and feel just how heavy he was made him want to die of mortification. "That won't be necessary, thank you."

With grim determination, Mycroft began to get to his feet. His legs were unsteady beneath him and he worried he might fall when a strong arm slipped around his waist and held him tightly. With his feet firmly on the ground, he expected the hand of leave his side. Instead the boy took Mycroft's arm and wrapped it around his savior's neck.

They walked in tandem, Mycroft's legs still a bit shaky and his face bright red. His whole body felt just a tad warm. Being in such close proximity to his angel was thrilling and daunting at the same time. He felt an unfamiliar twitch in his pants. It was rare for Mycroft to feel sexual arousal, even more so for him to act on it. But he wanted to, very much so. He wanted to explore the glorious creature that had saved him. To taste his skin, tease it with his lips and teeth. To feel their bodies pressed together.

Mycroft stopped himself from thinking anything further. For one, he was very naïve and uneducated in the ways of the flesh. He knew the general mechanics of sex but had never indulged in the activity himself. But he also feared he was making too much out of a stranger's kindness. It was a rare occasion, one that Mycroft had not experienced very often. He was not good at meeting new people and avoided the discomfiture at all costs.

He couldn't remember the last time he had made a friend on his own. The few people he considered friends were all sons of family acquaintances and were viewed as the right type of person Mycroft should associate with. But his somewhat sheltered childhood of being an only child for the first seven years of his life, combined with his being tutored instead of attending regular school, left him ill-equipped to deal with his current situation.

Though Mycroft did not have a flair for social skills, what he did have was an unusual knack for being able to read people. It was something he had discovered about himself as he grew up, that he could manipulate people into doing what he wanted. It came in handy at the age of thirteen when Mycroft found he did not possess the same musical talent his brother did. Mummy was adamant that Mycroft just wasn't trying hard enough and insisted he spend grueling hours practicing.

Mycroft instead tricked the gardener's son, Simon, into practicing for him. Simon would sneak in through the window and practice, leaving Mycroft free to sit in the corner of the room with his nose in a book. It was Simon that made Mycroft realize where his desires lied. Not with girls, which he knew was the expectation, but with boys. He also managed to manipulate Simon into kissing him but found the experience empty. He got no pleasure in forcing someone into a situation like that. Simon had been hesitant, unsure but had kissed Mycroft anyway because it was what Mycroft wanted. But knowing he wasn't wanted back in the same way ruined it. It seemed sexual experiences, no matter how chaste, were better when they developed organically.

From that point on, Mycroft never trusted people's feelings. How could you trust something that was so susceptible to corruption? That would so easily bend to your will? Which was why Mycroft was, as the saying went, between a rock and a hard place. He knew he could use this situation to his advantage. They were on their way to his flat, where they would be very much alone. The idea of it was thrilling and he could easily find a way to get his beautiful angel into bed. He'd never used his talent for these means before. It wasn't how he wanted it to happen though.

As they got closer to his flat, he realized that he very much wanted it to happen. All it would take would be some very meaningful glances; some suggestive touching and Mycroft would get what he so greatly desired. Yet the experience would probably be hollow as it had been with Simon. Empty and meaningless and unsatisfying. No he would not make a move and let the fate of the afternoon rest entirely in the hands of his savior.

"It's just up here." Mycroft pointed when they got to his street.

He had to pull away to grab his keys to unlock the door and he felt the loss of the body next to his own. Mycroft led the way up to his flat and opened the door, sweeping inside and waiting for his companion to join him. Mycroft's flat was, in a word, immaculate. There wasn't a single thing out of place and everything was hoovered and dusted. His books were arranged by genre and then alphabetized within their category. His school books were neatly piled on the desk, arranged in the order he would need them to complete his assignments.

The flat itself was quite nice and when Mycroft had gone looking for his own place with mummy, he'd fallen in love with this one almost instantly. It was close enough to his university that he could walk if the mood suited him. The walls were a classic creamy white and it had a large and fully stocked kitchen. The sitting room had two large, overstuffed leather chairs and a sofa to match. But what had really sold Mycroft on the flat was the balcony. Large, curved with a beautiful view. Mycroft liked to stand out there when the weather was nice and fancy himself as a character in an old movie.

"Nice place."

"If you wouldn't mind removing your shoes." Mycroft said before slipping off his own and placing them by the door. He watched as the boy toed off his boots and left them beside Mycroft's. Mycroft nodded in approval and went into the kitchen, knowing the other man was following him even though their footsteps made no noise on the carpet. It was instinctual, he could just feel the presence of another person. It probably came from extended periods of time spent in solitude. This new person was disrupting the balance and what a wonderful disruption it was.

Mycroft grabbed the tea towel and went to the fridge to get some ice. He had hardly opened the door when the other boy was standing very close behind him. "Let me." He said taking the towel from Mycroft and reaching past him into the freezer. Mycroft forced himself to swallow and moved away, leaning against the counter. He took a moment to appraise his angel. The strong muscles in his back, the straightness of his spine, the curve of his buttocks.

"Thank you." Mycroft said again. He could feel heat pooling in his lower abdomen and he forced himself to look away.

"I'm Greg, by the way, since you didn't ask."

"Oh my, you must think I'm terribly rude." Mycroft's hand lifted to his mouth in shock. Had he really not asked for his angel's name? Surely he had better manners than that.

"I never got a chance to ask yours either." The angle- Greg- pointed out.

"Mycroft."

"Strange name."

"Indeed."

"Eccentric parents?"

"Something like that."

"Well Mycroft, it's nice to meet you." Greg said with a smile as he filled the towel with ice.

"You as well." Mycroft returned the smile.

Greg finished with the ice and moved so he was standing directly in front of Mycroft. Mycroft almost got lost in those warm and inviting brown eyes. Greg placed the towel on the counter and then his strong hands came to rest on Mycroft's waist. He was about to ask Greg what he was going to do when Mycroft was suddenly lifted up off the ground.

"Up you get." Greg said moving Mycroft so he was sitting on the counter top. Mycroft tried to protest but it was over so quickly and Greg already had the cold and slightly damp towel pressed to Mycroft's face. Greg moved closer and was standing in between Mycroft's open legs, one hand on his thigh. Mycroft begged his body not to show his arousal. He didn't want to alarm Greg.

Greg stayed on task marvelously, attending to Mycroft's lips, cheeks and nose. Soon his features were rather chilly from the ice. Greg's rough hands were surprisingly gentle and he handled Mycroft with care, like he was something precious. The intimacy of their current situation was overwhelming and Mycroft had to struggle to stop his thoughts from running away with him.

"Did they hurt you anywhere else?" Greg asked softly.

"No." Mycroft lied. The last thing he needed was Greg inspecting his stomach.

"I saw one of them kick you in the stomach."

"It's fine." Mycroft insisted as Greg's hands moved to his shirt. He rested his hands on top of Greg's to stop him from lifting up his shirt. "I'm fine."

Mycroft could feel his palms getting sweaty as they stayed close together, hands touching. They stood like that for a moment, neither of them moving. "Oh God, please let me kiss you." Greg said breathlessly.

Mycroft's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. Yes. If you'd like to."

"I would." Greg moved his hand up to cup the back of Mycroft's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was chaste at first, soft lips pressed together. Mycroft felt a hint of tongue against his lips, an offer, an invitation to open his mouth. He obliged and Greg's tongue slipped in, gliding against Mycroft's.

Mycroft groaned, a sound not often made from him. He draped his arms around Greg's shoulders and kissed him back in a way he hoped was pleasurable. He moved one of his hands up, pushing his fingers into Greg's thick, dark hair. This was more than Mycroft had ever dared hope. His angel, his beautiful angel, kissing him.

Greg broke the kiss and began a trail of kisses from Mycroft's jaw to his neck. "Will you make love to me?" Mycroft asked in a whisper.

"Yes." Greg answered, his voice equally as quiet.

Mycroft slid off the counter and laced his fingers through Greg's, tugging him towards the bedroom. Greg pulled back, making Mycroft stumble into Greg. Their lips found each other again as Greg pushed him against the wall, his hand moving down and palming Mycroft's erection through his trousers. Mycroft moaned in response.

"I've-I've never…"

"It's ok." Greg said giving him a few gently kisses. "Just tell me if it's too much and I'll stop."

They finally made their way into the bedroom, Greg making quick work of the buttons on Mycroft's shirt. He slipped it off his shoulders and the expensive silk fell into a heap on the floor. It didn't matter, the shirt was already ruined from the attack earlier. Greg's hands grazed lightly over the dark, angry bruise on Mycroft's stomach, his mouth turned down in anger.

"Why did they hurt you?"

Mycroft closed his eyes. He'd been waiting for this question. But how to answer it? "Because I'm different." He offered up.

"Because you'd rather be here with me than off chasing women." Greg translated.

"Yes." Mycroft nodded.

"I should have beaten them more severely. I should have—"

Mycroft leaned forward and silenced him with a kiss. There would always be people like that, people who hated them for not being the way they were supposed to. Now was not the time to dwell on it. Mycroft pulled away to lift Greg's shirt over his head and then went right back to kissing him. He tangled his fingers into his gorgeous head of hair, enjoying the feelings of their naked chests pressed together. Mycroft could feel Greg's heart beating, racing just like his own.

Greg reached forward and undid the button and zip on Mycroft's trousers, pushing his briefs out of the way to grasp him. "Oh my." Mycroft gasped in surprise. It was one thing to be felt through layers of fabric, it was quite another when Greg was touching him directly.

Greg did a few pumps with his hand, their lips still connected. Mycroft felt like he might melt into a puddle of lust. He reached out and clumsily worked on Greg's belt buckle, his fingers failing him in every way possible. Finally he got the belt undone and unzipped Greg's pants, tugging them down.

They both stepped out of the remainder of their clothes and made their way over to the bed. Greg pressed Mycroft into the pristinely made bed before lying down on top of him.

"How…could…they…hurt…you…" Greg said in between trailing openmouthed kisses down Mycroft's torso.

"How could something that feels this good," Greg paused to lick the underside of Mycroft's cock, causing his back to arch into the sensation. "Spurn so much hatred?"

"Some people are closed-minded." Mycroft answered, his mind derailing as Greg took his cock into his mouth and sucking it hard.

"They don't know what they're missing." Greg replied after letting the penis fall from his mouth.

Greg moved back up to kiss Mycroft again. He rocked his hips, their erections sliding against each other. He continued to go it and Mycroft began moving his body as well, increasing the friction. Mycroft felt his body begin to tremble as everything went into sensory overload. "Greg!" Mycroft shouted, clutching at his hair as his body convulsed.

"Oh my." Mycroft bit his lip, looking down at the come he had sputtered all over himself and Greg. "Oh dear, how embarrassing."

"Why are you embarrassed?" Greg asked nuzzling Mycroft's neck.

"We'd barely gotten started. Isn't it supposed to last longer than that?"

"It was your first time. I wasn't expecting you to last for hours." Greg moved up and nibbled Mycroft's ear. "Besides, we're not done yet."

"Oh yes, of course, you still have an erection."

Greg snorted. "How do you manage to sound classy and proper even now?"

Mycroft just smiled and trailed his finger down Greg's arm.

"Do you want to go further? We don't have to."

"No, no. I want to."

Greg nodded and kissed Mycroft, warm and wet. Mycroft saw Greg's eyes flicker to the moisturizer on the bedside table and cocked an eyebrow questioningly. "Dry hands." Mycroft explained nervously.

He'd been very ready for this, craving it but now that it was actually going to happen, he found himself somewhat anxious. Greg pumped some of the moisturizer into his hand and coated his fingers. "Relax." Greg said reassuringly before pressing his lips to Mycroft's.

Greg's hand trailed down, leaving smears of moisturizer across Mycroft's belly before running a finger against the cleft of Mycroft's arse. Slowly the finger pushed in and Mycroft gasped into Greg's mouth. The finger moved slowly, deeper inside and Mycroft squirmed against the uncomfortable and foreign feeling. Then the finger was joined by another and Greg began moving them, pushing them steadily in and back out.

He scissored them inside Mycroft and he could feel his body opening up, accepting this new sensation. A third finger was added and the three moved together and Mycroft found himself pushing himself into the sensation, his body begging for more.

Greg pulled his fingers out and his lips left Mycroft's, causing him to whimper. "Put your legs around me." Greg instructed and Mycroft did as he asked, wrapping his legs around Greg's stomach.

Mycroft felt something pressing against his hole and realized Greg was about to begin the penetration. He swallowed and tried to relax, preparing for something much larger to be inserted inside him. Greg went slow, holding his cock at the base so as not to overwhelm Mycroft. His body adjusted to the feel until Greg was buried deep inside him.

His breath caught as Greg started moving, pushing himself out and in. "Fuck, you feel. Fuck." Greg exclaimed as he quickened his pace.

Mycroft lost himself in the sensation of having someone else inside him, moving deeply and eliciting such noises that he didn't think were possible. He fisted his hands into his angel's hair and held on as he got thoroughly fucked. Greg thrust in relentlessly, ending each one with a snap of his hips. Mycroft pressed his head into the pillows as the sensations continued to overtake him.

"Fuck. Oh yes. Yes. I'm close. I'm so fucking close."

"Come for me, my angel." Mycroft said softly, stroking his fingers down Greg's cheek.

Mycroft watching with fascination as his angel came undone, his body shaking with an orgasm and with a few finally thrusts, he emptied himself inside Mycroft. Greg pulled himself out and collapsed on top of Mycroft, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. Mycroft finally loosened his grip on Greg's hair and instead ran his fingers through it, making Greg hum in satisfaction.

"Will you be staying the night, or do you have somewhere you need to be?" Mycroft asked finally when he felt ready to drift off to sleep. The last thing he wanted was to wake up to an empty bed.

"I can stay, if you want me to."

"I do, very much so."

"Then I'll stay."

Mycroft awoke the next morning with his face buried deep in that thick hair he loved so much, It ticked his nose and he was forced to pull away or he would sneeze. He pressed soft kisses to the nape of his angel's neck, wondering if he should wake him or not. Greg stirred, turning onto his back and his eyes fluttered open.

"Morning." He said sleepily.

"Morning. I'm not really sure what the protocol is here." Mycroft confessed.

"I think breakfast is in order. My train leaves at three."

"Breakfast it is then."

Greg sat at the kitchen table, drinking a fresh cup of French roast coffee, while Mycroft fluttered around the kitchen making breakfast. Mycroft hummed a little song that he couldn't remember the name of and enjoyed the feeling of Greg's eyes on him.

When he had finished the apple cinnamon pancakes, bacon and eggs, he dropped one plate in front of Greg and moved to the other side of the table and placed a more modest plate in front of himself. Greg rolled his eyes and moved so he was sitting directly to the right of Mycroft before digging into his meal.

"These might be the best pancakes I've ever had." Greg said with a groan and he shoveled a rather large bite into his mouth.

"Thank you." Mycroft smiled as he sipped his tea.

"Not hungry?" Greg inferred from Mycroft's smaller helpings. He'd limited himself to one pancake, two strips of bacon and a small pile of eggs.

"Diet."

"I don't think you need it." Greg said with a shrug.

"Very kind of you to say so. My weight fluctuated quite a bit throughout my childhood. I take great care with what I eat."

It was unlike Mycroft to divulge such intimate details about himself. He tended to shy away from such sensitive topics. His weight had always been an area of concern. He had spent several years during childhood as a rather chubby boy. He'd taken great pains to grow out of it. It didn't help having a brother that liked to hold it over your head any chance he got.

The rest of their time together passed too quickly. Mycroft felt a pang in his chest at the thought of losing the first person he'd felt comfortable around. The first person he'd trusted enough to be intimate with. As they stood at his front door to say goodbye, Mycroft felt a great sense of loss. What did someone say in this sort of situation? He cursed himself for not having more knowledge of social situations.

"Well, if you're ever in London, you know where I am." He offered, hoping Greg often had cause to come to the city.

"That I do." Greg nodded with a grin.

"I can't thank you enough for everything you did for me."

"Don't mention it."

Mycroft shifted his weight from foot to foot. He wasn't sure if he just didn't know how to say goodbye or if it was that he didn't want to.

Greg stepped forward and gingerly pressed his lips to Mycroft's. If Mycroft was sure of one thing, it was that one chaste kiss was not a proper goodbye. When he felt Greg was about to pull away, he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back. Their teeth mashed together as the kiss became hard and desperate.

Greg pulled away with a groan. "You're make it extremely difficult to leave."

"That was rather my intention." Mycroft smiled wickedly and pulled Greg back in for more.

"Mycroft, I've got to go." Greg said breaking the kiss after a few moments.

"No you don't." Mycroft pulled him back again.

"I'm going to miss my train!" he cried helplessly.

"Then miss it."

"Mycroft." Greg chided. "I'm sorry but I really have to go."

"Very well." Mycroft sighed and pulled away.

"I'll see you again." Greg promised.

"I hope so."


	2. Chapter 2

It was two years before Greg had the money or a reason to go back to London. He went back to join New Scotland Yard. He had finished his police training at the academy and was anxious to start making a difference. He knew it was a little naïve to believe that he would clean up London, but it was a nice thought nevertheless. Besides, being a copper in the city sounded much more exciting.

If he was honest with himself, part of the reason he wanted to become a cop in the first place had a lot to do with Mycroft. It had felt good saving him, like he was doing something important. He wanted more of that, more of that feeling. Mycroft was also the reason he'd decided to move to London. Not just because being a cop in the city was infinitely more exciting, but because he was still hoping for…something.

But two years was a long time and he was certain Mycroft would have forgotten all about him. While he hoped their night together hadn't been entirely forgettable, he assumed someone like Mycroft would have more pressing things on his mind. No reason to think he would remember the boy who had saved him. Greg didn't even know what he would say to him if they happened to bump into each other.

Still, it didn't stop him from passing by Mycroft's flat whenever he was in that part of the city. He would walk by slowly, hands in his pockets, sometimes smoking a cigarette, hoping to see a light on and a tall figure in the window. The one time he did see a light on, he waited for a while to see if Mycroft would come out. Instead, a small woman in her mid-fifties emerged and Greg assumed it was the housekeeper.

He had no idea if Mycroft was even still in London. There was no number in the phone book. After a while he stopped going by the flat, stopped trying to find him. But he never gave up hope that one day they might just run into each other.

XXXX

Greg concentrated on work for the next three years. He was desperate to get out of narcotics and into homicide. He was tired of drug busts, putting away dealers and interacting with cokeheads. It was important work, he wasn't denying that, but he wanted to try something new.

Finally, after a hunch and a lucky break involving catching one of London's most notorious dealers, Greg got his wish. Detective Constable Gregory Lestrade. Had a nice ring to it and he took pride in his work. He more often than not stayed late finishing his paperwork, making sure no one slipped through on a technicality. Finally he felt like he was making a difference.

His dedication came with great detriment to his personal life. Any attempt at dating usually crashed and burned fairly quickly. Workaholic was the term used most often, although married to his job and neglectful was also thrown around occasionally. He dated both men and women trying to find someone who would understand. It didn't make any difference, both sexes were looking for more than he could give, more than he was willing to give if he wanted to make Sergeant within the next few years.

His DI Stroker, had once called Greg's dedication to his job a warpath. Said that he went after criminals with a vigor that Stroker hadn't seen in a long time. "You are a credit to the force Greg," Stroker had said clapping Greg on the back. "You do this place proud."

XXXX

It was three in the morning and Greg had only gotten to sleep two hours before, having just finished a vicious triple homicide case. His phone rang and rang, pulling him from his sleep. With a groan, he flipped onto his back, clumsily reaching for it in the dark. It fell off the base and dropped to the floor and Greg couldn't help feeling he wasn't awake enough to deal with this shit.

He snatched it up off the floor and pressed it to his ear. "Lestrade." He said, his voice gruff from still being half asleep.

"We've got a potential homicide on Moxon Street." Greg recognized the voice as DC Grant.

Greg sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. "I'm on my way."

He arrived at the scene twenty minutes later, after having stopped at a twenty-four hour coffee place to get himself a large pick-me-up. He knew without it he wouldn't be awake enough to deal with this. He kept blinking and slapping his face, trying to keep from dozing off.

"What have we got?" he asked when he'd joined the others around the body. He tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

"Did we interrupt your beauty sleep?" Grant gibed good-naturedly and Greg didn't bother with a response.

Instead he knelt down by the body and took in the evidence for himself. It was man, early forties, multiple knife wounds to the chest. Nice suit so possibly just come from work but no sort of briefcase. "Any ID on the vic yet?" he asked Grant.

"No, his wallet was taken. Looks like a robbery gone wrong. We'll have to wait for the finger prints and hope there's a match."

"I hate these kinds of cases." Greg sighed, getting to his feet. It always took longer when you had no clue who the victim was. And he was hoping to sleep something this week for more than a couple of hours. It was going to be a long night.

"Greg." Stroker called out, waving him over. Greg took a long gulp of the coffee, burning his tongue slightly. He didn't have time to wait for it to cool down, he needed some caffeine and quick.

"Yes sir?" Greg asked when he'd reached the DI.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was called in." Greg answered, confused.

"I bloody told them not to call you. You only went home, what was it, two hours ago?"

"I'm fine." Greg insisted.

"Greg." Stroker replied knowingly. "Look, there's a man over there that says he has some information. Interview him, give Grant your notes and then go home."

"But sir I—"

"That's an order Constable. I don't want to see you again until you've had a good nights rest."

"Thank you sir." Greg nodded. Every day he thanked the Lord that he got Stroker as his DI. It made the job so much easier when your superior was on your side. It was difficult to do their job if you didn't think the higher ups had your back.

It was just beginning to drizzle and Greg would rather not go home waterlogged. He jogged over to the man Stroker had pointed to and pulled out his pen and pad. He stuck the pen in his mouth so he could switch his coffee over to his left hand so that he could actually write.

"Alright, so I hear you have some information for us?" he asked flipping his pad open.

"I do indeed Constable." The voice was low, sensual and oddly familiar. Greg's eyes flickered up and then widened in surprise. Mycroft looked much the same as he had five years ago. His hair was shorter, cut down to almost nothing while Greg knew his own hair had gotten longer. Greg shuffled his feet, waiting for Mycroft to recognize him, to give him some sort of acknowledgement. Instead Mycroft stood there, leaning on his umbrella and waiting for Lestrade to take his statement.

"Mycroft." Greg said staring at him.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Mycroft asked.

Greg felt his stomach bottom out. He didn't know why he was so insulted, it had been five years. Although Greg thought people usually remembered the first person they shagged. He wondered if he should remind him but that might make things even more awkward and embarrassing.

Instead Greg straightened up a bit and tried to look professional. "No, my DI told me your name."

"Yes, of course." Mycroft said smiling as if he knew something Greg didn't. It made Greg uneasy.

"So, you have information?" he asked, dropping the pad to his knee for something to write on.

"Yes. I'm here to tell the police to not waste their time." Mycroft said calmly, lifting his hand and inspecting his nails.

"What?" Greg nearly dropped his pad. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that the police are out of their depth. No identification, am I right?"

"How did you—?"

"This is a very delicate matter and will be handled by more…competent parties."

"Oi!" Greg said offended.

"I'm not talking about the Met as a whole mind, you get the job done…on occasion. I'm simply telling you that there is more going on than you could ever possibly grasp."

"And what's your concern with all this?" Greg eyed him suspiciously.

"Consider me a good Samaritan." Mycroft smiled and lifted his umbrella, opening it in one quick flourish.

"Right, so you expect me to go over there and tell everyone to just pack it in because a man with an umbrella says we're too stupid to figure it out?" Greg asked angrily.

"What you tell them is entirely your business. I'm trying to help you not waste your time. This matter will be dealt with quickly and quietly and not by the Metropolitan police force."

Greg was about to say something more when Mycroft turned to go. Greg wanted to reach out and pull him back, make him explain further but he knew it was useless. Dejected, he walked back to the crime scene, ducking under the police tape.

"Well, what did he say?" Stroker asked.

"Nothing important." Greg lied, tucking his pad and pen back into his shirt pocket.

"Greg, remember when I told you to go home?" Stroker asked.

"I'm fine." Greg said again, sipping his coffee

"Greg, if you're not in a cab on your way home in five minutes, so help me I will put you on desk duty for a month." Stroker threatened.

"I'm going, I'm going." Greg gave in, backing away from the body. He wanted in on this. He wanted to show Mycroft that the police were capable of handling something like this. He wanted to solve it and shove the victory in Mycroft's face. It was stupid and childish and had a little more to do with Mycroft forgetting him than Greg wanted to admit.

Still, he went to the main road and called a cab. He slumped down in his seat, ready to doze off at any second. The ride to his flat seemed to take forever and he sipped his coffee in an attempt to stay awake until he could crash on his bed. Sleep would be heavenly and he couldn't wait to indulge in a full eight hours. He couldn't even remember that last time he'd had that luxury.

The moment his flat door was closed and locked behind him, he instantly started to strip out of his slightly damp clothes. He slipped out of his overcoat and threw it haphazardly on the couch. He loosened his tie and pulled at it until it slipped from around his neck.

He had just started unbuttoning his shirt where there came a knock at the door. He groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, his whole body tensing from the idea of having to talk to someone. He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled the door open.

"Mycroft?" Greg stared at him in disbelief.

"I hope I'm not disturbing something." Mycroft replied, looking pointedly at Greg's half unbuttoned shirt and gazing a little too long at the flesh and hair reveled by the open shirt. Greg looked up to see Mycroft licking his lips and going a bit red.

"No, I was just getting changed." Greg stepped aside to let Mycroft in. Mycroft stepped in and rested his umbrella against the sofa before sitting down. Greg noticed he was completely dry and looking still impeccably neat.

"What are you doing here?" Greg asked still somewhat thrown by Mycroft showing up at his flat.

"I felt I should explain myself."

"About the case?" Greg asked going into the kitchen to make some tea. He put the kettle on and turned back to Mycroft.

"No." Mycroft said tersely. "I came to speak about my…behavior towards you."

"Oh." He was a bit lost for words. Was Mycroft apologizing for being such a prat at the crime scene? Did he feel remorse for calling Greg incompetent? He wasn't sure why that warranted Mycroft coming over to his flat. His head was swimming and he was confused, probably from the lack of sleep. He just needed a moment to think.

And then suddenly Mycroft was there, standing so close to him. His body was radiating heat and his cologne filled Greg's nostrils. It smelled musky, male, expensive and very Mycroft. Greg gripped the counter, worried about what he might do if his hands weren't otherwise occupied. He needed answers but Mycroft was so close and he'd spent so long thinking about him, wondering where he was, hoping they'd run into each other again.

Mycroft moved somehow even closer, putting one hand on Greg's upper arm, the other caressing his cheek, "Did you honestly believe I had forgotten you?"

Answers would have to wait. Greg grabbed Mycroft by his lapels and pulled him close, attacking him with a kiss. Mycroft's lips parted and Greg slipped his tongue in, dragging it across the roof of Mycroft's mouth and their tongues tangled together. Mycroft pressed his hands against the exposed skin on Greg's chest, running his fingers through the chest hair.

Greg broke the kiss to trail his lips down Mycroft's jawline until settling in the crook of his neck and sucking. "Oh Gregory." Mycroft cried out breathlessly.

The kettle started to whistle and Greg seriously considered leaving it. But Mycroft pulled away and adjusted his suit making the decision for them. With a sigh, Greg went over and pulled two mugs down for the shelf, pouring the tea in. "How do you take it?"

"Two sugars please." Mycroft answered, sitting down at Greg's kitchen counter. Greg was thankful for something to do as he prepared the two mugs of tea.

"Alright." Greg slid the mug over and stayed on the opposite side of the counter, away from temptation. "Explain."

"I recognized you the moment you stepped on scene. Your hair's a bit longer and straighter, bit of gray mixed in with the brown. Still, unmistakably Greg." Mycroft smiled warmly before bringing the steaming mug of tea to his lips.

"Then why did you pretend you didn't know me?"

"Vanity, I suppose. You rather broke my heart." Mycroft was staring down at his mug, twisting his spoon around it in a circle.

"What?" Greg asked, beyond confused.

"I was quite young when I met you, naïve in many ways. I had made you out to be a sort of Prince Charming figure. I waited for you to return, longer than I should have perhaps. Adolescent fantasy and the like. Seeing you again was quite painful, especially once I knew you'd been working in London for a while."

"Mycroft." Greg reached forward and placed his hand over his. "It took me two years to get back and I sort of assumed you'd forgotten about me by then. I went by your flat a couple of times hoping I'd see you. I never did and I thought maybe you'd moved."

"Oh no, I still keep that same flat. I'm afraid work keeps me quite busy. I've slept in my office more times than I've slept at home."

"What is it you do anyway?"

"I hold a minor position in the British Government."

"I didn't vote for you."

"I'm not a politician Gregory. I work more behind the scenes."

"That's enigmatic." Greg teased, raising his cup to his lips.

"Yes." Mycroft agreed, sipping his tea as well.

Greg chuckled. "That's all you're going to tell me, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to disclose more."

Greg shrugged and finished off the last of his tea. If that was all Mycroft was going to say, he wasn't going to push the matter. Mycroft could keep his secrets and his mysterious job. It wasn't what Greg was interested in…at the moment.

He walked around the kitchen counter and tentatively lowered his face to Mycroft's. Their eyes met and for a moment they just looked at each other, drinking in everything that had changed in five years. Then Mycroft lifted his head and brought his lips to Greg's.

Greg was exhausted, ready to collapse at any second. Was he really going to do this? He was running on empty and yet he still wanted it, wanted him. He fisted his hand in Mycroft's shirt and dragged him up to his feet. The angle of the kiss changed since Mycroft was taller and Greg moaned as Mycroft's tongue plunged deeper.

"Where is your bedroom?" Mycroft asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"First door on the right." Greg told him.

"Go ahead and get undressed, I'll be right with you." Mycroft commanded and for a moment Greg didn't move. He wasn't really into that whole Dom/Sub bullshit. Mycroft seemed to sense his uneasiness. "I'm not trying to control you Gregory, I simply have a quick matter to attend to before we can…continue."

"Ok." Greg nodded, wondering if this was more of Mycroft's curious job at play. Maybe Mycroft had to get clearance before sleeping with him. Greg snorted at his ridiculous idea and headed to the bedroom, leaving to door open.

His shirt came away easily with it already half open. He grabbed the lubricant from his sock drawer and threw it on the bed. He toed off his shoes and sat down to pull off his slightly damp socks. He lied down on the bed and undid his trousers, lifting his hips to tug them off. Finally he pulled off his boxers, kicking them across the room without a care.

He flipped over onto his stomach and rested his head on his arms. He could only hope he wouldn't fall asleep while he waited for Mycroft. What was taking him so long? Greg was already half hard with anticipation. Mostly he just couldn't believe this was happening. It had been a month since he'd last gotten laid and even longer since it had been with a man.

Greg thought about how much the man had changed. He was still prim and proper but not quite as awkward. The shyness he'd once had seemed to be gone. More self-assured. Greg had to admit he kind of liked it, although a part of him missed that timid young thing that had so quietly and uncertainly asked Greg to make love to him.

"Beautiful." Mycroft remarked when he entered the room, his eyes taking in Greg's naked frame.

"Took you long enough." Greg countered with a smirk.

"My apologizes." Mycroft grinned and began to undress, first his suit jacket, followed by the vest. Shirt, shoes, sock and trousers were all stripped away. Greg stayed where he was, enjoying the view.

"Come here." Greg beckoned, his arm outstretched. Mycroft complied, slipping into the bed under Greg's arm. Greg lied half on the bed, half on top of Mycroft as they kissed slowly and sweetly. Greg shifted so his leg was in between Mycroft's, his thigh pressing against his erection and Mycroft's doing the same to his. It took all he had not to roll his hips and rut against Mycroft's leg. His thigh was getting a bit wet from the precome emanating out of Mycroft's cock.

"You're not going to disappear on me for five years again, are you?" Mycroft asked, breaking their kiss.

"Of course not." Greg began kissing down Mycroft's chest, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth and tugging at it with his teeth. Mycroft moaned in response and rested his hands on Greg's back. "As long as we're both in London, we can see each other as often as we'd like. Maybe even go one dates like normal people." Greg murmured against his skin, his mouth still covering the nipple.

"I'd like that. Although I do travel extensively – AH! - for work." Mycroft jumped as Greg switched to his other nipple and sucked it.

"That's ok, I keep busy myself. In fact my hectic work schedule has been the downfall of many of my relationships."

"As has mine."

"Seems rather perfect then." Greg grinned happily as he pressed open mouth kisses down Mycroft's belly before dipping his tongue into his belly button.

"Oh yes." Mycroft agreed, twisting his fingers into Greg's hair and pulling him back up for a kiss.

He tipped Mycroft onto his side and grabbed the lube from the bed. Slicking up his fingers, he ran them along the cleft of Mycroft's arse before circling his hole. He pushed in past the ring of muscles, hearing Mycroft's breath catch just a bit. Greg kissed Mycroft's back while his fingers moved slowly in and out. He twisted his fingers, finding Mycroft's prostate and stroking against it.

"Oh Gregory." Mycroft groaned, reaching back to clutch Greg's thigh, his fingernails digging in just slightly.

He added another finger, moving them in an even pace, indulging in the heat and tightness surrounding his fingers. His cock twitched in anticipation. He slipped his fingers out and applied more lube to his hand, covering his cock. Hitching his arm under Mycroft's leg, he lifted it and positioned himself behind him, lining up and thrusting in.

"Gregory!" Mycroft exclaimed, his arm shooting back and fisting in Greg's hair.

"Is it good?" Greg asked beginning to roll his hips.

"Yes. Oh yes." Mycroft groaned, pulling at Greg's hair.

Their bodies slid together and apart as Greg moved slowly and deliberately, trying to make it last as long as possible. They would have to switch positions for Greg to get a better pace but for now he was enjoying the closeness of their bodies. Mycroft turned his face so their lips could meet again.

"Touch yourself." Greg whispered in Mycroft's ear

Mycroft shook his head in response, a whimper escaping his lips.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to come until you do." Mycroft answered, his eyes shut tight.

"Just touch it lightly, don't grip it." Greg instructed.

Mycroft's hand descended down and he started touching himself, just his fingertips brushing along his length.

"Good." Greg said approvingly.

"I don't know how long I can keep this up." Mycroft said with a groan.

"Ok." Greg nodded and pulled himself out.

"Don't stop!" Mycroft pleaded and Greg chuckled in response.

"It's fine. Get on your hands and knees."

Mycroft did as he asked and Greg knelt behind him. Mycroft's arse was right in his face, look tantalizingly good. Greg put his hands on it, pulling his cheeks apart and lowering his face. He licked in a circle around the hole and then plunged his tongue inside.

"Oh my!" Mycroft said in shock as Greg darted his tongue in and out.

He pulled away and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Then he repositioned himself, lining up again and buried himself in to the hilt. He gripped Mycroft's hips and pulled him back to meet his thrusts, pounding into him at a quickened pace. Mycroft lowered himself onto his elbows, his head resting against them, his hands gripping the sheets.

"Gregory, touch me. Please." Mycroft begged.

Greg removed one of his hands from Mycroft's hips and placed it on his cock. He moved his hand quickly, the room filling with the noise of skin slapping against skin. He slammed into him, finding his sweet spot again, making Mycroft arch his back. He went in at the same angle, finding it again, a keening noise escaping from Mycroft.

"Come for me." Greg asked, tightening his grip on Mycroft's prick.

"No. With you." Mycroft said with some difficulty.

"I'm almost there." He answered gently, speeding up yet again and pushing in as deeply as possible with each thrust.

He felt his orgasm building and with a few final thrusts he tipped over the edge, taking Mycroft with him. They rode out their orgasms together, finishing with both of them panting. He dropped his head onto Mycroft's back, feeling more exhausted than ever. He pulled his now sensitive cock out and dropped down onto the bed. Mycroft lowered himself down and turned to face him. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Will you stay? Or does the British Government need you?" Greg asked teasingly.

"I think I can spend one night away without the entire country collapsing." Mycroft said with a smile.

"Let's hope so." Greg smiled back, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and holding him close. It wasn't long before his body and mind gave up and sleep took him.

XXXX

Mycroft and Greg continued to see each other over the next few months, although not as often as they would have liked. They were both so consumed with work that they were lucky if they found time in their schedules to share a meal. The few nights off they actually had usually consisted of dinner and a shag.

It wasn't horrible, as far as dating went but Greg wanted more. He craved intimacy. Not just the kind you got from sharing a bed with someone but the kind achieved from knowing a person, really knowing a person. The problem was Mycroft kept so much of himself hidden. And Greg partly understood that, he really did but their dinners often included Greg talking about himself for an hour while Mycroft asked him questions, never divulging anything in return. He knew work was a taboo topic but surely there were something things Mycroft could tell him.

Greg had just finished a truly brutal murder case of a small child and he wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into Mycroft's arms. Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen since Mycroft was out of the country. Greg didn't even know where he was because apparently even that information was top secret. It was frustrating and horrible and the last thing he needed after a case like this.

He stopped at Tescos and bought himself some beer and a microwave dinner, resigning himself to a lonely night of getting drunk and watching telly. It was difficult, being involved with a member of the British Government. He'd thought their situation would be ideal but more and more he was wishing Mycroft had a different job. A normal job.

His footsteps were labored as he walked into his flat, feeling the strain of the day. Children's murders were always difficult. Every day that went by without the case being solved felt like a failure. It was hard to tell parents that their child's murderer hadn't been caught yet. At least now the bastard was rotting in prison. Still even catching the guy felt hollow. There was still a child with its life ripped away much too soon.

With a sigh, Greg flopped onto the couch and turned on the telly. He put on a random quiz show and started nursing his first beer. It wasn't long before he dozed off, the terrible day taking its toll on him. He was only wrenched awake by the phone ringing. Groggily he got up and answered it, praying to god no one had died.

"Lestrade." He said rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm sorry Gregory, did I wake you?"

"Mycroft." Greg sighed happily. It was good to hear his voice. "I was just taking a nap on the couch, it was a difficult day."

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Mycroft asked, concerned.

"It can wait till you get back, which will be when exactly?"

"Not sure yet. It really is a mess over here and will take quite a bit of sorting."

Greg shook his head. Just as vague as ever. "You're being careful though, right?" If Mycroft couldn't tell Greg where he was or what he was doing, at least he could tell him that.

"I assure you I'm in no danger."

"Good." Greg said approvingly although he doubted Mycroft would ever tell him if he were in danger. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

"Come home soon, yeah?"

"As soon as humanly possible." Mycroft promised sounding so close, speaking right into Greg's ear and yet impossibly far away.

XXXX

"Where are you?" Greg asked from his desk phone.

"On my way to the restaurant. Where are you?"

"Still at work, I'm leaving right this second. I've got some really fantastic news." Greg was still grinning from ear to ear, had been ever since Stroker called him into his office.

"Alright, well then hurry so you can tell me."

"See you soon." Greg said hanging up. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and left The Met with a spring in his step.

By the time he got to the restaurant, he'd practically been skipping. It was one of Mycroft's places so definitely swanky and overpriced but the food would be delicious. Greg knew he was underdressed but couldn't be buggered. Besides it wasn't like he had time to go home and change.

When he was shown to the table, he leaned over and gave Mycroft a chaste kiss before sitting in his seat across from him. He really wanted to kiss him some more, he was in such a good mood. But Mycroft wasn't big on public displays of affection so Greg would save it for when they got home.

"So what's this good news of yours?" Mycroft asked after ordering a bottle of wine for them. Greg would have preferred a beer but he'd grown accustomed to drinking wine since he'd started dating Mycroft.

"How would you feel if you knew you were dating a Detective Sergeant?" Greg asked beaming.

"Promotion at work?" Mycroft guessed.

"Yes!" Greg said, elated. "My DI called me in today and said I've been promoted."

"That's wonderful Gregory." Mycroft gave him a smile that seemed not happy but almost devious.

"You don't seem surprised in the least or happy for me either." Greg pointed out.

"No, you mistake me Greg, I'm quite thrilled about your promotion."

"But something's wrong."

"What would give you that impression?"

"You're acting weird."

"I'm doing no such thing." Mycroft argued, turning his face away and brushing his finger against his lip as if he were trying to hide his mouth.

"Mycroft, what did you do?" Greg asked, starting to get annoyed.

"Nothing!" Mycroft insisted.

Greg narrowed his eyes, not believing him. He was going to question him further when the waiter came over with their bottle of wine and took their orders. Greg ordered a steak, one of the few things on the menu he could actually identify and waited for the waiter to leave so he could start again.

"Mycroft, did you know I was getting promoted?"

"Yes." Mycroft nodded. It seemed like the first truthful thing he'd said since Greg had sat down.

"Did you have something to do with my being bumped up to Sergeant?" _Please say no. _

"I may have had a small hand in it." Mycroft shrugged, taking a sip of his wine.

Greg screwed his eyes shut, his hands balled into fists. "Mycroft, what the hell were you thinking?"

"Gregory, you'd earned it. You deserved it."

"There were a lot of people who deserved that promotion, a lot of people expecting it. There were guys who had been working for it longer than I had and the only reason I got it was because I have an influential boyfriend." Greg hissed, taking a sip of wine just to try and calm down.

"Greg, I assure you, I simply heard they were thinking about promoting someone and I merely steered them in your direction. The decision however was entirely out of my hand."

"You don't really expect me to believe that do you?" Greg asked raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Mycroft, there's a way things work at The Met. You don't just jump the line. And here I was thinking that I got promoted because I'd actually earned it."

"You did! You've worked harder than anyone else in that whole station. You've got more collars than any other Constable. My involvement was minimal."

"Then why did you get involved at all?"

"I thought it was something you wanted."

"Right, or maybe it had something to do with the prestigious Mycroft Holmes, with his fancy top secret job, being embarrassed with dating a lowly constable."

"You know that's not it. Now please Gregory, you're making a scene."

"I don't give a toss—"

"Gregory." Mycroft said through gritted teeth. "We will discuss this at home."

"Don't order me around like you own me Mycroft. You don't tell me what to do, ever." Greg spat angrily.

"Why don't you go outside and have a smoke to calm down. By the time you get back the food will be here and we can discuss this rationally." Mycroft suggested, swirling his wine glass and then raising it to his lips.

"Fine." Greg said pushing his chair back and stalking out of the restaurant. The moment he was outside he pulled the pack from his jacket pocket and slipped one between his teeth, lighting it with his zippo. Instead of waiting outside, he started walking. Mycroft could sit and eat alone if he insisted on being such a pompous ass.

Greg was only a few blocks away when a black car pulled up and Mycroft stepped out. "You really are quite predictable Gregory." Mycroft said with a sigh.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry." He snapped back, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly.

"This can't just be about your promotion." Mycroft guessed.

"It's not." Greg admitted, dropping his head back to rest on the building behind him. He took another drag and scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail absentmindedly.

"Well?" Mycroft asked, waiting for more.

"I thought this was what I wanted, I really did. I thought being with someone who was as consumed by work as I was would make this work."

"You're saying it doesn't?" Mycroft asked looking somewhat crestfallen.

"I just…it isn't enough Mycroft. I don't need someone who ignores me as much as I ignore them. I need someone that I'm willing to put ahead of my work."

"And you're saying I'm not that person?" Mycroft looked down at his feet. Greg dropped his cigarette and crushed it underfoot.

"No, you are." He stepped over and gripped Mycroft's shoulders. "I would gladly do that for you. I want you to be that person but I know you would never do that for me."

"What makes you so sure?" Mycroft challenged.

Greg let out a heavy sigh. "This whole relationship has been a bit one-sided. You don't offer up anything of yourself. When we talk, it's about me. My workday, my family, my friends, my interests, my hobbies, my childhood, my hopes, my dreams. I don't know a thing about you Mycroft other than you like red wine, are a pretty fantastic shag, enjoy expensive things and you hold a minor position in the British Government. See what I mean? After months of being together I can count the things I know about you on one hand."

"My job—"

"I know. I've accepted that there are certain things you can't tell me. I've made peace with that. But you don't tell me anything."

"My life is very complicated Gregory."

"Everyone's lives are complicated!" Greg huffed out a breath, throwing his hands up in frustration. He stepped away and started pacing the sidewalk in front of Mycroft. "It just, it seems like you're only with me because I'm convenient. Because up until right now I've kept my mouth shut about everything."

"You honestly think that?"

"Yes." Greg nodded.

"For how long?"

"For a while." Greg admitted.

Mycroft sniffed, standing up a bit straighter. "Well then, if that's how you feel, maybe we should end our association."

Greg stopped pacing and turned to stare at Mycroft. He swallowed and shuffled his feet a bit. "Is that what you want?"

"It seems to be what you want." Mycroft replied, his demeanor icy.

"I wish things were different My, I really do. But I need more."

"I don't have anything else to give."

Greg nodded. He felt his stomach twist into knots. "Then I guess this is goodbye."

"I guess it is." Mycroft said turning on his heel without another word and disappearing into his car.


	3. Chapter 3

Mycroft was on the phone with a Peruvian Governor when Christina walked in. He held up his finger, signaling her to wait. In a few quick maneuvers the matter was settled and he was able to hang up the phone. He turned his attention to his most recent assistant. Honestly they were so difficult to train and none of them seemed to last longer than a few months. More than a few had had to quit because they'd suffered mental breakdowns.

"Yes?" Mycroft asked, his hands folded together on his desk.

"It's your brother sir." Christina informed him.

"What has Sherlock done this time?" Mycroft asked already annoyed. Then again that was the usual emotion elicited when someone mentioned his younger brother.

"He's been arrested." She answered, looking down at her notepad. "The police are looking for a family member to come bail him out."

Mycroft leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. What had Sherlock gotten himself into? Mycroft was almost tempted to let his brother rot in jail for a while. But mummy would be very cross if she found out.

Mycroft had been keeping tabs on his brother, watching his every move. He tried to interfere as little as possible, knowing how Sherlock felt about his meddling. Still, there were some times Mycroft had no choice but to intervene. Sherlock had been on a rather destructive path as of late and now he had been arrested. Any attempts to talk some sense into him had been met with derision and only seemed to make Sherlock rebel even more. Mycroft wondered how he could have failed his brother so miserably.

"Tell them I'm on my way." Mycroft commanded his PA.

She scurried off to make the call. Mycroft rose from his chair and took a moment to gaze out the window at the splendid view of London. It had been far too long since he'd seen Sherlock face to face. Perhaps it was time to force a confrontation. If Sherlock wouldn't see reason, drastic measure would have to be taken.

He grabbed his coat and umbrella before striding out the door. He was in no hurry, hoping some time in a cell would be just what Sherlock needed. He had his assistant get him the report of Sherlock's arrest, along with the CCTV footage. Both were sent to his mobile and he studied them on his way to the Met. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he read who the arresting officer was.

When he arrived at the Yard, he was shown to where his brother was being held. The girl who led the way was pretty, a constable, who seemed very new and very green.

"Oh God, what's he doing here?" Sherlock asked the moment Mycroft stepped into view.

"He's here to bail you out." The constable said looking at Sherlock with disdain.

"Don't bother, I'd rather stay in here than accept your charity." Sherlock spat, his eyes bloodshot, deep circles underneath, making him look dreadfully haggard.

"You ungrateful—" The constable started but was quickly cut off by Mycroft.

"That's quite all right." He interjected putting a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Thank you so much for your help."

The girl gave him a small smile before turning to leave. She shot Sherlock a look and mumbled freak under her breath before stalking off.

"You seem to have acquired quite a rap sheet for a single evening." Mycroft began now that he and his brother were alone.

"The police overreacted." Sherlock mumbled, sitting down on the bench in his cell, sulking with his arms crossed.

"I very much doubt that. After reading the report and watching the footage, along with how well I know you, I'd say they severely under-reacted. Things could have been a lot worse."

"I'm in a jail cell Mycroft, how much worse do you think it could get?" Sherlock snapped in irritation.

Mycroft ignored his comment and pressed on. "Mind telling me just what you thought you were doing?"

"You seem to already know."

"Sherlock." Mycroft rolled his eyes and tapped his cane against the floor impatiently. Sherlock could be quite petulant when the mood struck him.

"I was trying to help." Sherlock grumbled.

"Is that what you call it?" A voice interrupted and Mycroft instantly froze. Suddenly he was twenty-six again, getting dumped on the sidewalk. Eleven years, god had it really been that long? It seemed unfair that the mere sound of Gregory's voice was enough to make the painful memories come flooding back.

"Was anything I told you wrong?" Sherlock questioned, his eyes flickering over Mycroft for a second and taking in his strange reaction to the policeman. He rose to his feet and then turned his attention back to Greg.

"Well no, but—."

"Then let me out and we'll forget this whole thing."

"I can't do that." Greg shook his head.

"Why not?" Sherlock's eyes narrowed, his eyebrows pulled down making his nose crinkle.

"I'm willing to post bail." Mycroft interceded before Sherlock dug himself a deeper hole.

Greg turned his attention to Mycroft, finally looking at him, and his eyes widened in shock. He was stunned into silence for a moment but recovered quickly, clearing his throat and then turned away.

"Hold on, what was that?" Sherlock asked. Of course he had noticed that moment of tension between them, damn him.

"Nothing." Greg said quickly.

"Clearly." Sherlock replied, unconvinced. "You two know each other but from your body language and your strange breathing, I'd say more than just acquaintances. What was your name again?"

Before Greg could respond, Sherlock reached into his pockets and extracted a police badge. "Gregory Lestrade." He read off it.

"How did you get that?" Greg asked, flummoxed. He patted himself down just to find his was indeed missing.

"He's the Greg you used to write home about?" Sherlock chuckled in almost a malicious manner. Mycroft's eyes were pleading for him to say no more but of course Sherlock wasn't finished. "And I'm fairly certain you once wrote that you thought he was 'the one'"

Mycroft had hoped Sherlock had mentally deleted those letters. But of course he hadn't. He never deleted anything that could possibly embarrass Mycroft in the future. Mycroft kept his face stoic, not showing his discomfort for Sherlock's pleasure. Of course that just made Sherlock try harder.

"He's the reason you left the country for a year?" Sherlock inquired and it took everything Mycroft had not to wince.

"That was because of business." Mycroft kept his voice calm. He could feel Greg's eyes boring into him but he didn't dare look over.

"Sure it was." Sherlock sneered.

"I think we might have to keep him overnight." Greg spoke up, shooting a grin at Mycroft.

"Yes, I understand." Mycroft nodded gratefully at Greg coming to his rescue. It seemed to be a habit of his.

"You do?" Sherlock asked indignantly. He clutched the bars of his cell, turning his attention to Greg. "You can't keep me here, I didn't do anything! And I caught you a murder."

"What are the charges being raised against my brother?" Mycroft asked Lestrade.

"You already know the charges." Sherlock said through gritted teeth, seething. Mycroft shot him a look to be quiet.

"We've got drug possession, interfering with police business, assaulting a member of the forensics team—"

"Sherlock." Mycroft chided, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"He was asking for it." Sherlock said defensively.

"You were tampering with police evidence. He was trying to keep you from destroying the crime scene."

"I was trying to do the same. He was mucking up the only important clues. You really should fire him."

"I'm not firing Anderson." Greg shot back and Mycroft couldn't help admiring how the policeman could hold his own. Sherlock could be quite a handful and usually got his way simply because people didn't have the energy to fight him. "We've also got you for resisting arrest."

Mycroft shot him another contemptuous look but Sherlock just shrugged. "I wasn't going to go quietly."

"I wonder if I could have a word with you in private?" Mycroft asked

"Why, what are you going to tell him?" Sherlock asked, looking worried.

"We can go to my office." Greg offered with both of them pointedly ignored Sherlock.

"Lead the way."

He followed Greg to a very nice corner office. Greg opened the door and held it to allow Mycroft to step in first. He followed and shut the door behind him.

"When he said his name was Sherlock Holmes, I didn't make the connection. Probably should have, doubt there are many Holmes's."

"Not many, no."

"He's your brother?"

"Yes."

"You two don't look much alike, although I suppose there is a certain resemblance. Same stubborn quality too." Greg added with a smirk.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Mycroft joked, a smile pulling at his lips. He took a quick look around Greg's office. There weren't many photos on the desk, just one of what Mycroft assumed was Greg's family. There was no ring on his finger, so he wasn't married, he noticed with some satisfaction. The desk was piled high with papers and there didn't seem to be any kind of organizational system in play.

"It's good to see you Mycroft."

"You as well Gregory. Detective Inspector, that's quite an achievement."

"Thank you. I got the promotion all on my own."

Mycroft felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Another wave of painful memories came crashing down. But Gregory was smiling and obviously hadn't said it to be cruel. Mycroft calmed his nerves and pushed the feelings away.

"I wonder if you'd join me for dinner. It would be nice to have a chance to catch up."

"I'd like that." Greg answered and Mycroft let out the breath he hadn't even known he was holding in. "But, uh, what should we do about your brother?"

"That, detective inspector, I leave entirely in your hands."

XXXX

Greg did eventually let Sherlock go with the strict understanding that if he ever tried something like that again, he wouldn't be so lucky. Mycroft quickly texted his PA and informed her to have Sherlock kept under close surveillance. If Sherlock got into any more trouble, Mycroft was to be informed immediately.

They got into Mycroft's car and Greg instantly started shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Mycroft wasn't sure if it was because there were certain unpleasant memories attached to this car or if he was the reason Greg was uncomfortable. They were in quite close quarters. Perhaps the small space was making Greg uneasy.

They arrived at a small Italian restaurant; one he knew they had never visited when they were together. The last thing he wanted was to remind either of them of that day. They were seated in the back as per Mycroft's request. There was a candle on the small table and they were seated away from everyone else. Mycroft worried that he should have picked a larger restaurant that was less intimate.

If Greg was bothered, he didn't say anything. He sat down in his chair and instantly started perusing the menu. Mycroft sat as well but he was already aware of what he planned to eat. Instead he folded his hands under his chin, leaning on his elbows and looked at Gregory. His hair was shorter again, with more grey than brown now. Still there were bits of it left, giving him that salt and pepper look. His face was still quite youthful looking and if possible Greg seemed to be getting more handsome with age.

Yes, the intimacy of this restaurant was probably the worst idea he'd ever had. The whole thing felt like a proposition and that was most likely the furthest thing on Greg's mind. He'd have to be careful on where he steered the conversation while they ate.

"Bottle of wine?" Greg asked peering at Mycroft over his menu. Mycroft instantly shifted so he wasn't being quite so obvious about his staring. He leaned back in his seat and placed his hands on the table.

"Would you like one?" Mycroft asked in surprise. Greg had always been more of a beer drinker if he recalled correctly.

"After the day I've had, definitely."

"Red or white?"

Greg raised an eyebrow. "You only drink red."

Mycroft couldn't help feeling quite flattered that Greg remembered. Eleven years and still they remembered so much about each other. "Still, I didn't want to be presumptuous."

"Whatever you order is fine and I'm sure it will be expensive and delicious and most importantly it'll be alcohol."

"Very well." Mycroft smiled and called the waiter over.

He waited until Greg was on his second glass of wine and was tucking into his meal before bringing up the reason he'd asked Lestrade to dinner. It wasn't purely just to get reacquainted or to spend time with a man he'd once loved, although those were factors. He had an ulterior motive for asking Greg to dine with him.

"Gregory, I know it's terribly unfair of me to ask this, but I need a favor." Mycroft began delicately.

Greg swallowed his mouthful of pasta. "What is it?"

"When Sherlock came to your crime scene, was the information he gave you helpful?"

"Well as painful as it is to admit it, yes." Greg nodded. "It was vital actually. After weeks of working the case and a pile of dead bodies, your brother strode in and solved the damn thing in minutes."

"And if conducted himself with more decorum, would you consider letting him help with cases again?"

"I might consider it, if he stopped being such an arrogant sod." Greg said stabbing at his noodles.

"I very much doubt such a thing is possible. But if he reigned himself in, didn't cause such a fuss?"

"Not all the time though." Greg negotiated. That was good, it meant he was considering it.

"Certainly not. Maybe just on cases where you're stumped? I think my brother could be very useful to you."

"Why me?"

"Because you already have experience dealing with Holmes's." Mycroft gave him a gentle smile. "And I believe you'll be able to handle my brother."

"There's a slight problem."

"Yes?"

"The drugs."

"Of course." Mycroft nodded in agreement. "I've been trying and failing for some time to get my brother to go straight. Perhaps if he is given the choice between the drugs and the cases, he'll pick the right one and be properly diverted."

"You think he'll do that?" Greg asked, looking skeptical.

"My brother needs to keep his mind stimulated. For now the only thing that works is the cocaine. I think given enough cases to solve, we might be able to break him of his habit."

"Makes sense." Greg said shoveling in another mouthful of pasta and washing it down with his wine.

"So you'll do it?"

"Sure why not." Greg shrugged. "As long as he behaves and keeps being helpful. I'd be a fool to turn down the help."

"I'm glad you see it that way." Mycroft grinned triumphantly.

They fell into easy conversation but Mycroft couldn't help feeling there was a sort of cloud over Gregory's head. There was something he was skirting around, something he didn't want to say. Still, Mycroft didn't want to pry and assumed Greg would tell him if he needed to. Instead the continued to talk and Mycroft realized they were both leaning into each other over the table as they spoke. He had his hand over Gregory's (when had that happened?) and was gently rubbing the side of his hand with his thumb. The meal was winding down and it was time to either make a move or let Greg go.

"Do you want to go somewhere with me?" he asked, uncharacteristically nervous.

"Oh thank God, I thought you were never going to ask."

"So that's a yes?"

"That's a resounding yes."

XXXX

They banged into the hotel room ungracefully, slamming the door behind them. Mycroft then pushed Greg up against it and attacked his mouth with his own. Greg's mouth was warm and wet and soft. Their tongues slid against each other's, their open mouth kiss sloppy and urgent.

Greg began ripping off his clothes, tearing at his jacket and throwing it to the floor. Then he reached forward and started doing the same to Mycroft's. "Do you always have to wear so many bloody clothes?" Greg asked in frustration as he peeled away layer after layer.

Mycroft pressed his thigh in between Greg's legs, applying just a bit of pressure to his erection. Greg let out a loud moan and kissed Mycroft hungrily. He rubbed himself against Mycroft's leg while he greedily sucked Mycroft's tongue. Their shirtless bodies pressed together and Greg began pushing them backwards towards the bed.

They tumbled into it on their side, their lips never breaking apart. Mycroft shifted so he was straddling Greg's thighs, feeling his erection through his trousers. While their lips were occupied mashing together enough to bruise, Mycroft's hands began teasing Greg's nipples. He pinched, rolled them, pulled at them, making Greg jump and writhe underneath his weight.

Greg undid the zip on Mycroft's trousers and slipped two fingers through the teeth of the zipper. He stroked Mycroft through his underwear, making Mycroft groan. He then pulled away from the kiss and replaced his fingers with his tongue, slipping it through the undone fly to lick Mycroft's erection.

"Gregory." Mycroft groaned shakily, his head falling backwards.

Mycroft ground his hips down, pressing the cleft of his buttocks against Greg's erection. He could feel it throbbing through Greg's trousers. Greg removed his mouth from Mycroft's crotch and he lied down on the bed, allowing Mycroft to take a hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand snaked down and into Greg's trousers to cup his cock. Greg pressed up into his palm, a keening noise escaping his lips.

"Mycroft." Greg said breathlessly, rolling his hips to rub against Mycroft's hand.

"You're exquisite." Mycroft said before catching his lips for another kiss. The heady feeling of need Greg was exhibiting, the need for Mycroft, was intoxicating. Greg was so responsive, leaning into each touch, craving it.

Mycroft undid Greg's trousers and then placed sucking kisses down his chest until he was down low enough to tug them down along with the underwear. Greg's hard prick sprang free from the cloth as Mycroft rid him of the last of his clothes. Then he stood beside the bed and removed his own clothes while Greg watched intently.

"No one ever makes me feel needed the way you do." Mycroft confessed, crawling back onto the bed and hovering over Greg's body, the only thing touching was their erect member sliding together just slightly. "Or wanted. I don't think anyone has ever looked at me the way you are now."

Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft and pulled him down, their bodies flush against each other. "That's because no one could ever want you more than I do." Greg replied softly, pressing kisses to Mycroft's lips, nose, cheeks, forehead and chin.

"Show me." Mycroft requested, circling his hips to move his cock against Greg's. "Show me how much you want me."

"Mycroft." Greg arched his back into the sensation, his toes curling. He flipped them over so Greg was on top.

"In my coat pocket." Mycroft told him.

"What?"

"Lubricant."

"When did you have time to get lubricant?"

"I keep some in the car just in case. I had the foresight to grab it."

"One of the perks of shagging a bloody genius." Greg said giving Mycroft a quick kiss before sliding off the bed to retrieve it.

"No need for shameless flattery, Detective Inspector, you've already got me naked." Mycroft teased as he admired Greg's nude frame bending over and going through Mycroft's pockets.

"It's not flattery." Greg insisted as he oozed the gel onto his hand, rubbing them together until both were covered. He kneeled next to Mycroft on the bed, one hand beginning the stroke Mycroft's aching and heavy cock, the other descending down. He massaged around Mycroft's opening, feeling the ring of muscles relax until he could slip two fingers in easily. Mycroft pressed into the touch, his body swallowing the fingers until Greg was in to his second knuckle.

"Christ, you always feel amazing." Greg said pressing kisses to Mycroft's hipbones. He began moving his fingers in even strokes, twisting them each time to press against Mycroft's prostate.

"Gregory." Mycroft whimpered, feeling overwhelmed. Greg's hand was fisted around Mycroft's cock, pumping him roughly.

Mycroft reached up and pushed Greg's shoulders until they flipped again. Mycroft started riding Greg's fingers, letting himself be fucked but needing more. He took the hand off his cock and placed it on Gregory's, coating it in the lube until he was all slicked up.

Greg slipped his fingers out and Mycroft grabbed the base of the detective's cock, positioning himself over it and grinding down to take Gregory in all at once. He was full, so full of Greg's cock, throbbing inside him and feeling impossibly good. For a moment he stayed still, enjoying the feel of Greg inside him, possessing him fully.

"Christ." Greg cried out when Mycroft began to move. He could feel his body clenching, clinging to Greg's hot and thick cock. Greg began squirming beneath him, desperate to thrust in deep but held down by Mycroft.

Mycroft leaned forward, pushing Greg's arms over his head and lacing their fingers so he was slightly pinned to the bed. Leaning forward caused Greg to slip almost out of Mycroft's arse and Greg thrust his hips up, burying himself back in to the hilt. Mycroft arched his back with a loud moan as Greg continued to gyrate inside him, circling his hips on each thrust up.

Mycroft bent down and devoured Greg in a searing kiss. Greg continued to buck up, sliding in and out of Mycroft hole. Mycroft started grinding his hips down, meeting Greg's thrusts until he was buried balls deep inside every time.

"Greg. Greg. Greg." Mycroft chanted, his cock neglected apart from slapping between them on each pulse they did. But he didn't dare let go of Gregory's hands, enjoying the look of him pinned underneath him.

"Fuck My, God you're beautiful like this. So hot and tight. You feel fucking amazing."

Their pace quickened, Mycroft's thighs beginning to groan from the strain.

"I want to touch you. Please My, let me touch you. I want you to fuck my hand until you come."

"Yes." Mycroft nodded, releasing his grip on Greg's hands. He instantly started stroking Mycroft's cock in quick, erratic movements. "Grip me harder." Mycroft asked, his hands reaching back to hold onto Greg's raised legs, using them as leverage to pull himself up and down. His fingernails dug into Greg's skin as he moved as fast as possible, feeling Greg push deep – so deep – inside him.

"Mycroft." Greg moaned holding Mycroft's cock tightly and jerking him quickly.

Mycroft's orgasm was overtaking him, his body beginning to shake. "Gregory. My angel. My love. Fuck me harder. Yes. Just like that. Yes. Oh yes. Oh. Oh. Greg!"

Hot come shot out of Mycroft's cock in spurts, landing in an arc onto Greg's stomach. Greg kept his hand moving from base to tip until Mycroft's orgasm subsided and he had nothing left. Greg reached up and pulled Mycroft down for a kiss, continuing to thrust relentlessly up and in, making Mycroft moan against his mouth.

"Christ, Mycroft, I'm going to come. Fuck you feel fantastic. Fuck. Christ. My, fuck I'm going to…I'm..." The rest of it was cut off as Greg shouted, coming hard inside Mycroft.

For a moment neither of them could move and Mycroft felt Greg's penis soften inside him. He pulled himself up, letting Greg's flaccid cock fall from inside him, before dropping down onto the bed next to his lover. He lied down on his front with his face against the pillow, staring at Gregory. Greg grabbed a few tissues and cleaned himself up before moving closer and slipping his arm under Mycroft, pulling him towards him.

Mycroft substituted the pillow for Gregory's chest, snuggling up against him. Greg ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair while Mycroft lazily trailed his through Greg's chest hair. Mycroft sighed contentedly and closed his eyes.

"Mycroft, there's something I haven't told you." He could hear the uneasiness in Greg's voice and his whole body tensed in fear. "I…I'm getting married."  
>"When?" Mycroft asked, keeping his eyes shut but continuing to play with the hair on Greg's chest. He figured this conversation would be easier if they weren't looking at each other.<p>

"This Saturday, actually." He could hear by his voice that Greg was wincing.

"So soon?"

"We've been together for the last six years. If anything this is not soon. I've been dragging my feet."

"Why?"

Greg sighed heavily, moving his hand down to tenderly stroke Mycroft's back. "I was afraid, I guess. Afraid of marriage, of committing to one person for the rest of my life. I love Helen, I really do but I'm not sure if I can promise her everything. I think I'm going to end up disappointing her."

"Impossible Gregory. Anyone who has you should consider themselves lucky."

"God damn it Mycroft, you have really bloody awful timing. Of course you would walk back into my life four days before my wedding." Greg said in frustration.

"I'm truly sorry for inconveniencing you but I'm not going to regret what we did tonight."

"My." Greg said gently, cupping his hand under Mycroft's chin and forcing him to meet his gaze. "I don't regret it either. I'm glad I got to see you one last time. I just should have told you sooner. I don't know why I didn't. God, if only things were different we—"

"Don't." Mycroft cut him off with a plea. "Don't fill both our heads with a bunch of what ifs. We're here and we're happy. On Saturday you're going to get married and I'm going to go back to working too much. But for now I just want you to hold me until we fall asleep."

"As you wish." Greg said pressing a soft kiss to Mycroft's lips.

XXXX

They didn't end up sleeping for very long. In fact the moment they were both up for it, they began round two. Greg folded Mycroft in half and fucked him into the mattress. After that they were both pretty much spent, and sleep overtook them. Mycroft slept soundly in his lover's arms for as long as possible. But since he had a fairly odd sleep schedule, it wasn't long before he was awake again.

He began kissing and licking Greg, starting with his strong, broad shoulders. He moved down, mapping Greg's body with his mouth. As soon as they left the hotel room, Greg would be bound to another but for now he was all Mycroft's. He couldn't help indulging.

Mycroft slipped underneath the covers and positioned himself between Greg's open legs. He lowered himself, rubbing his face against Greg's hip, his breath hot on Greg's half-hard cock, making it twitch in response. His finger traced along the side and then back down, twisting in the bed of hair. He moved lower, his tongue running over the curve of the balls.

"Mycroft." Greg groaned, still half asleep. His groggy voice was quite appealing and Mycroft felt his own manhood harder from the sound.

Greg was fully hard, the tip of his cock leaking with precome. Mycroft lapped at it, tasting the saltiness before swallowing the head of Greg's cock. He moved slowly, his tongue taking its time to memorize the veins, the throbbing, the heaviness of Greg's extraordinary member. He was humming around it, enjoying the weight on his tongue.

He did one hard suck and Greg's body jerked in response. "Mycroft!" he cried out, sounding more awake. He kicked at the covers until the fell off the bed and their eyes met. Mycroft continued what he was doing, sinking lower and then back up slowly. Greg moaned in response, his head falling back onto the pillows.

Mycroft raised his hand up and slipped his fingers into Greg's mouth. He instinctively began sucking on them, pushing them deeper into his mouth, sliding his tongue against them. Abruptly he removed them and Greg whimpered. He looked down at Mycroft, gazing curiously at this new development. Mycroft was fairly certain Greg had no idea what was coming next until a long, elegant finger pressed against his hole.

Greg's eyes widened in shock as Mycroft caressed his fingers against Greg's opening until it relented and allowed Mycroft in. For a moment Mycroft kept his finger still, allowing Greg to adjust before he moved the single digit in and out slowly. He was fairly certain this was Greg's first time being penetrated since he was very decidedly a top. And Christ, he was tight and so unbelievably warm.

Mycroft moved his finger faster, his mouth keeping the same rhythm, and Greg began making little mewing noises. "Mycroft. _Oh God, Oh God. Oh God_…"

Mycroft's free hand wrapped around the base of Greg's cock, massaging what he couldn't get into his mouth. He slipped another finger inside Greg's hole, sliding them in and out, twisting them to brush against his prostate on every pulse.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're incredible." Greg gasped, his hands fisting into the sheet and thrashing just a bit. "You should see how you look. Gorgeous, absolutely bloody gorgeous."

Mycroft added just a hint of teeth, just slightly grazing them against Greg's length.

"Oh fuck."

He hallowed out his cheeks and took Greg in as deeply as possible and then began bobbing his head quickly, sucking hard in long pulls from base to tip. His fingers moved faster to match the pace.

"I'm so close My. Don't stop, never stop. Oh fuck, Oh God…"

Greg came in a few long spurts, emptying himself into Mycroft's mouth as his body convulsed underneath him. Mycroft let Greg's now flaccid penis fall from his lips and he removed his fingers from his hole. Greg looked positively debauched, as he lied there looking dazed. Mycroft crawled back up the bed and settled in beside him, running his fingers through the salt and pepper hair.

"Christ My, that was…"

"Thank you." He said pressing gentle kisses to the corner of Gregory's mouth. He eventually turned so they could kiss full on. Greg pulled away for a second to lick his palm before his hand descended down and curled around Mycroft's cock. It a few hard tugs, Mycroft was brought to completion. The moan as he came was stifled by Greg's lips against his.

"I definitely need a shower." Greg murmured against Mycroft's temple.

"Hmm." Mycroft agreed, feeling rather worn out. But a shower did sound fantastic.

"Come on." Greg laced his fingers through Mycroft's and pulled at him.

The shower was easily big enough for two people but they spent the entire time crowded against each other. They stood under the tantalizingly wonderful warm spray, kissing each other endlessly. In fact there was very little washing done until the water began turning cold and they quickly soaped themselves down and rinsed.

Once they were both somewhat dried off and wrapped comfortably in the plush robes the hotel provided, they finally ordered some food. After they had stuffed themselves full of bacon and eggs, they got back into the bed and held each other. Mycroft couldn't help thinking how nicely they fit together.

"My." Greg said quietly, finally breaking their silence. "This can't happen again. Once we leave here that's it. I'm going to be faithful to my wife."

"I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be. I wish things could be different too. But the work I do is important. I'd love to drop everything and try to make this work but I can't. I like my job and I'm good at it. Besides, you have a chance at real happiness. I'm not going to stand in the way of that. I'd love to keep you Gregory, however I'm not that selfish."

"I kind of wish you were." Greg confessed in a whisper.

Mycroft let out a heavy sigh. "I know, that's exactly why I can't be."

XXXX

They left the room an hour later, after making love one last time. They kissed at the door, both dressed back in their clothes. There was no evidence of their indiscretion anywhere on their person, while the room was filled with it. The bed all tousled, unmade and had shifted slightly to the right. The room smelled heavily of sex and pheromones and sweat. Discarded tissues in the rubbish bin, used towels and bathrobes. They would leave all the evidence here so no one but the two of them and the cleaning staff (all approved by Mycroft himself) would know what had happened in that room.

"Well this sucks." Greg said after they'd pulled away from each other. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and slumped his shoulder.

Mycroft chuckled. "It does indeed."

"So when' the next time you'll be showing up in my life?" Greg asked with a crooked grin. "Just so I can mentally prepare myself."

"I really couldn't say Gregory. I will keep my distance as best I can to ease things." Mycroft promised.

"Is it awful that that's the last thing I want?"

"I'm afraid it's necessary, my angel." Mycroft replied gently, stroking the hair at the back of Greg's neck. "Keeping away from temptation. Besides, you've got another Holmes to contend with now."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Greg said making a face. Mycroft laughed and pulled Gregory in for one final kiss. It was slow and tender. Mycroft felt very close to losing his nerve and begging Greg not to get married. Instead he pulled away and rested his forehead against his lover's.

"Live a good life Gregory, be happy and I in turn will be overjoyed at the knowledge that you are contented. Live enough life for both of us."

"Mycroft, please I…"

"Goodbye Gregory." Mycroft cut him off before he said something to change his mind. He grabbed his umbrella and slipped through the door, disappearing.

XXXX

Mycroft kept his word. He gave Gregory as much distance as possible. In fact the very next day Mycroft got on a plane for Moscow. It was a work matter but it was far beneath him and in no way worthy of his time. No, in truth he was running away just like he had the last time his heart had been broken.

And when he finally returned to London, he continued to keep away. He threw himself into work with such vigor that he was fairly certain he would have the country running smoothly in no time. When he was finished with that he would get started on fixing the rest of the world. America would take some time, as would a fair amount of places in the Middle East. However he was up to the challenge if it meant he had little time to reflect on…other things.

He'd gotten a new assistance, Margaret was her real name but he was the only person who knew that. She seemed to change her name as it suited her but to Mycroft she was Peggy. If she disliked the nickname, she never let on and every time he called her by it, he could see a slight smile twitch onto her lips. But Peggy was a true godsend. He'd never seen someone so adept at the taxing job.

She seemed to know everything and was even skilled enough to be able to predict what Mycroft would need. They'd gotten so comfortable with each other that Mycroft rarely had to ask for anything at all. She really was a marvel and a pretty young thing as well. If Mycroft's interests were of that persuasion, he most certainly would have bedded her. In fact he had a fairly strong inkling that she wanted him to.

"Will that be all sir?" She asked at one in the morning after they'd just finished dealing with a few members of the UN via conference call.

"Yes Peggy, have a good evening. Enjoy your date." He said dismissing her.

"How did you know about that?" she asked with a charming smile.

"Kevin has had his eye on you for some time now. I heard him whistling in the men's room earlier and could only assume his chipper mood was the product of his successfully asking you out."

"Is it a problem?"

"Not at all Peggy. I think you'll make a very handsome couple." Mycroft replied sincerely. Her face fell, just a bit, briefly showing her disappointment. She'd obviously expected Mycroft to be jealous, which was quite an absurd notion. However she recovered quickly.

"And should I get someone for you this evening sir?"

One of the amazing things about Peggy was her ability to read Mycroft's mind. He never took someone to bed with him unless he was feeling particularly lonely. He had no idea how Peggy could tell, perhaps she could read it on his face. But there would be a knock on his door and a gorgeous young man would walk in. They were always as different from Gregory as possible. Usually twenty-something blond boys with tans and sculpted muscles.

"Not tonight Peggy, thank you." He said with a faint smile. She nodded and got up from her seat. He waited until the door was shut before opening his laptop and pulling up the CCTV footage. This wasn't something he did very often, but every once in a while he couldn't help but indulge himself.

Of course even at one in the morning, Gregory was still at work. He was hunched over his desk with a mountain of paperwork in front of him. He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged at it in frustration, giving it a delightful unkempt look. The poor man looked ready to pass out.

_Oh Gregory, isn't your wife missing you? _Mycroft thought as he watched Greg pour over case file after case file. He couldn't help reaching out to touch the image on his screen, running his thumb along those broad shoulders. For a while he'd felt strange about spying on Gregory. It seemed underhanded and immoral. But he never watched Greg at home, only ever at work or at crime scenes. He never touched himself or did anything inappropriate. He simply admired the man he loved from afar. It was the most he was allowed.

At three in the morning, Greg finally packed up and went home. Mycroft shut his laptop and did the same. He had a very nice apartment in the center of London but instead he found himself on his way back to the flat he'd kept during Uni. He still had to keys and a rush of familiarity overcame him when he walked through the door. It was amazing how a place could hold so many memories.

He went straight to the bedroom, taking a moment to replay his first encounter with Gregory. He felt a pang in his chest which didn't subside. He slipped out of his clothes and got in the bed. It took a while but he finally drifted off to sleep, dreaming of his angel and a world where things were different.


	4. Chapter 4

Greg was fairly certain that he deserved some kind of reward for dealing with Sherlock Holmes. He'd assumed, wrongfully it turned out, that it would get easier over time. But the last five years had made Greg want to rip his hair out and he knew most of his team felt the same way. Most of them refused to work with the man and the few that did made sure to voice their complaints. As if Greg wasn't already painfully aware of what an arse Sherlock was.

But he was helpful and that was something Greg couldn't ignore. He couldn't let crimes go unpunished simply because the man who could solve them happened to be bleeding impossible to deal with. At least Sherlock had stopped using cocaine as far as Greg could tell. He never came to the crime scenes high and what Sherlock did in his own time was his business.

However working with Sherlock wasn't difficult just because of Sherlock's attitude. It was also a constant reminder of not only Greg's infidelity but also of the man he'd let get away. He tried not to dwell on it, but when the man who you'd once considered the love of your life's brother was constantly around, it was difficult not to think about it. He was certain the only reason Sherlock never laid his personal life out for all to see like he did with everyone else was because his past included Sherlock's brother. Greg assumed Sherlock found it distasteful to talk about and therefore never mentioned anything, never read Greg through his deductions like he did everyone else, for which Greg was grateful. Still, every time he saw Sherlock, he couldn't help the overwhelming guilt that consumed him when he thought about how easily he would have chucked his six-year relationship with Helen if Mycroft had simply asked him to.

Which was why Greg was also hesitant to bring Sherlock in on cases. It wasn't his pride with letting someone else solve a murder and it wasn't for the sake of his team. It was mainly because seeing Sherlock stirred up repressed feelings about the elder Holmes brother that Greg took great pains to keep buried. But when bodies were dropping all over the city and they weren't anywhere near figuring out how the seemingly suicides were linked, he'd locked his feelings away and finally called Sherlock in.

But even in the five years they'd been working together, Greg had never seen Sherlock like this. It was unbelievable seeing the changes in Sherlock. He was actually showing off, which wasn't too unusual but it was the way he was doing it. Sherlock usually came in, listed off a bunch of deductions, called everyone idiots and then left. This time however, he was prancing about the room, listing off deductions and looking very smug with himself. And all because of a tiny little Doctor with a limp who said he was fantastic. Greg couldn't figure out why Sherlock was so keen on showing off for this man but he most certainly was.

At least Sherlock was throwing himself into the case and had it solved rather quickly. Greg thought he might actually get home to Helen for once instead of passing out at his desk. He knew it was unfair to leave her alone with Maddy but these murders had to take precedent. Still, he hated leaving his wife alone with their three year old daughter. He knew she was a handful and he couldn't help feeling like he was missing everything. And he could see the disappointment in his wife's eyes every time he came home late and missed dinner.

Which was why after Sherlock had finished brushing him off to go and chat up his new boyfriend, Lestrade had every intention of going home to his family. At least until he saw a familiar figure emerge from a black car that he recognized almost instantly. Sherlock and John stopped to talk to Mycroft for a moment and then they were off, walking in tandem, probably to go have a shag or something. John wasn't limping anymore, which was interesting.

Greg made his way over to Mycroft before he could stop himself. Mycroft's pretty assistant informed him of Greg making his way over with a nudge and a nod of her head. Mycroft turned and for a moment Greg froze under his gaze before steeling himself and closing the rest of the space between them.

"Evening Inspector." Mycroft said with a smile.

"Didn't expect to see you here. Our crime scenes don't usually merit a visit from the British Government." Greg countered, feeling the same ease he always did in Mycroft's presence.

"Well it's not every day my brother almost gets killed by a serial killer."

"Happens more often than you'd think." Greg informed him. "That brother of yours is trouble."

"I apologize if working alongside him has been unbearable."

"Well you could have warned me when I agree to it that I was signing myself up to be your brother's keeper."

"I fully believed you were up to the task."

"Although it looks like he's got a more permanent, live in one now." Greg said, nodding his head in the direction of Sherlock and John.

"Yes, I think they'll be good together." Mycroft agree in approval. "Any idea who shot the cabbie?"

"Not a clue." Greg said with a wink. "Not much to go on."

Despite what Sherlock said, Greg was not an idiot. While he didn't have all the information Sherlock had, he had noticed how Sherlock had stopped speaking the moment his eyes locked on John. Still, killing a serial killer and saving Sherlock was a noble thing and Greg wasn't about to hunt the man down. He'd happily let the case stay a mystery.

"Excellent."

"Sir, you've got that call in half an hour." The assistant interrupted them.

"Yes, of course. Please excuse me Gregory." Mycroft said with a small bow of his head. "It was nice to see you."

"It's always nice to see you." Greg replied with a genuine smile, which Mycroft returned before disappearing into his car.

Lestrade finished up with the crime scene and headed home. By the time he arrived, Helen and Maddy were both sound asleep. He moved around the house quietly, doing his best not to wake them up. He grabbed a beer and turned on the TV, muting the sound and putting on the captions. He watched the news to see what they'd say about the case finally being solved. He saw that stupid picture they used for every news story involving him flash up onto the screen and shook his head. It was always weird seeing himself in the papers or on the news but it was part of the job.

He sipped his beer as he channel surfed, nothing really catching his eye. When he'd finished, he turned off the TV and snuck into Maddy's room to kiss her good night. Every time he saw his daughter he was shocked at how big she was getting. He worried about the day when she'd start dating and thanked God that that day was a long way off.

He brushed the dark brown curls away from her forehead and gently pressed his lips to her skin. She reached up and put her arm around her neck, hugging him in his sleep. It made him want to cry, the fact that he was in her life so little. He wanted to pick her up and bring her into the bed with them. She loved getting to sleep in mummy and da's bed but he didn't want to wake her. Instead he gently eased her arm down from around her neck and placed it around her stuffed bunny. She cuddled with her toy instead and Greg sighed quietly before tiptoeing from the room.

He went into his own and began undressing. He slipped on a pair of drawstring trousers and slipped into his side of the bed. "So you solved the case then?" Helen murmured, sounding tired.

"Yes." He said softly, not bothering to mention that it was Sherlock who had actually solved it. He scooted over and fit his body against his wife's, wrapping his arm around her.

"I can't remember the last time you've been home for dinner."

"The case is over now, I'll be home early tomorrow, I promise." He said placing a gentle kiss to Helen's temple.

"You'd better." She said lacing her fingers through his. "We miss you."

Soon she drifted off to sleep and Greg stared at the ceiling. Trying to juggle work and his family was so frustratingly difficult. It was like he was being pulled in so many directions, stretching him too thinly. He'd already missed Maddy's first steps and her first words. How many other things was he going to miss because he was so consumed with work? He couldn't even remember the last time he'd made love to his wife.

And then suddenly his thoughts turned to Mycroft. It had been years since he'd seen him and yet they fell into their usual banter with such effortlessness. He'd never told Helen about Mycroft, afraid that he might tell her about his cheating. But he'd never mentioned the fact that he'd had sex with men. As far as Helen knew, he was completely straight. It wasn't a glaring omission since he had no intention of sleeping with men ever again. Still, seeing Mycroft again stirred up old feelings, ones he'd taken great pains to bury inside himself. And as he drifted off to sleep, he tried to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

XXXX

He saw Mycroft again, sooner than he'd expected. Usually it was years between their meetings, this time it was merely weeks. It was right after the pool incident and Greg had made his way to Baker Street, ready to ream Sherlock out. He'd just found out Sherlock had arranged the meeting with Moriarty himself and Lestrade was ready to give him a piece of his mind. Honestly, it was like the man had no common sense and just rushed into danger without a second thought. How could someone so smart be so bloody stupid?

Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to let him in and as he got to the door to Sherlock's flat, he pounded on it, ready to spit angry words at the consulting detective. John answered it, looking disheveled and exhausted. Greg felt a pang of sympathy for the Doctor. It had been a rough few days for all of them, but Sherlock and John had it the worst. So Greg bit back his complaints and stepped into the flat.

"Tea?" John offered, rubbing his eyes.

Tea would have been lovely but he didn't have the heart to make John do anything. The poor bloke looked ready to collapse. "Uh, no thank you."

"Lestrade." Sherlock said breezing into the room, looking surprisingly well compared to everyone else. Then again he knew Sherlock was used to working on only a few hours rest. "If you're here to yell at me about my carelessness involving Moriarty, you're a bit late. I've already had it from John and Mycroft."

At the mention of his name, Mycroft emerged from the kitchen, holding two cups. He passed one to Greg and sipped the other one himself. "Hello Gregory."

"You two know each other?" John asked, looking surprised.

"You could say that." Mycroft answered, grinning devilishly.

"Oh for Christ's sake, why do you two insist on reminding me that you've slept together? I've already had to delete it several times." Sherlock snapped in irritation. He flopped dramatically onto the couch. Greg could feel John's gaze on him and he tried not to show his embarrassment.

"No, you two." John said looking at Mycroft and then back at Greg, his mouth hanging open.

"It was a long time ago." Greg muttered and then sipped his tea for something to do.

"I didn't realize you were… I mean you're married." John said fumbling for words.

"Bisexual." Greg offered up and bit his tongue to keep from adding _like you. _He knew John had been on dates since moving in with Sherlock, he'd even seen him flirting with some of female officers at crime scenes. So Greg revised his earlier notion that Sherlock and John were together. But the way John looked at Sherlock, you could just see the affection there, the admiration and the infatuation. And he'd noticed Sherlock frowning and getting even more snippy when John chatted up women in front of him. Clearly, the two of them were in denial about what was going on. He could only hope they'd work it out.

"Oh." John nodded and went to sit down in his chair.

"Do you two need anything?" Greg asked. It looked like John could use a week's rest. Greg wanted to be helpful since Sherlock and John had nearly gotten themselves killed.

"Some peace and quiet would be lovely." Sherlock said pointedly.

"Alright then, we'll be going." Mycroft said fetching his umbrella and heading towards the door. John shot them an apologetic look before Greg followed Mycroft out. They didn't speak until they were on the front stoop.

"I didn't expect to be seeing you again so soon."

"Yes, well, Sherlock seems to be getting into a lot of trouble lately."

"Your concern for him is nice, considering your antagonistic relationship."

"It can't be helped, I'm afraid." Mycroft sighed and glanced up at the window of Sherlock's flat.

"So, will I be seeing you again or are we still avoiding each other?"

"I think it's for the best."

"Well I don't. I like seeing you. We could spend some time together, just casual as friends."

"Please Gregory, don't ask this of me." Mycroft pleaded, making sure not to meet Greg's gaze.

"Why not?"

Mycroft reached out and grabbed Greg by the arm, pushing him against the door of 221B. Mycroft's face was close, his lips ghosting against Greg's neck so he could feel his hot breath on his skin, causing him to break out in gooseflesh. "You know why not." Mycroft whispered, making Greg shiver from the intensity of their current situation. He swallowed hard and felt his breathing become jagged as Mycroft pressed against him.

Greg shut his eyes, praying to God that Mycroft would kiss him. Instead, he felt the loss of heat against him as Mycroft turned away. Greg's eyes snapped open in time to see Mycroft climbing into his car. With one final, longing look, Mycroft shut the door and was gone.

Greg dropped his head back to rest against the door, taking a moment to compose himself. He adjusted himself in his trousers and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm down. When his breathing returned to normal, he hailed a cab and headed home, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now.

XXXX

He really should have seen it coming and yet when Helen served him with divorce papers, claiming neglect, he really wasn't expecting it. The signs were there, she was growing increasingly frustrated with his lack of commitment to their marriage. It seemed like whenever he did manage to get home, all they did was fight about how much time he spent at work. Maddy was five now, she'd be starting school soon and Greg felt like he had missed her entire time as a toddler. Now she was an actual kid. He couldn't really fault Helen for taking action.

But for it to happen on the day of Sherlock and John's wedding just seemed like a cruel twist of fate. He'd have to go and sit there; watching two people who loved each other swearing their undying devotion while his own marriage was crumbling to bits. Well, at least there would be free booze.

As he got to the reception hall, most of the guests had already arrived. He took a seat in the back. He wasn't sure which side was Sherlock's and which was John's but since he knew both of them, he assumed it didn't matter. He hadn't expected quite to many people. The hall was filled with sixty or so and he hadn't even known the two men knew that many people.

He recognized the back of Mycroft's head, sitting in the front row. It hadn't even registered in his mind that he would see Mycroft today. Christ, and on the day his wife decided to divorce him. Would he tell Mycroft? Let him know that he was now suddenly very, very available? It had been two years since the last time they'd spoken but Mycroft had made it very clear they he still wanted Greg. Maybe he would just drop a few hints and see what happened.

He couldn't believe he was actually considering this. He had just signed the papers this morning. A seven year marriage down the drain and he was already thinking about moving on? What the hell was wrong with him? His daughter was going to grow up living in a broken home. He could have prevented it if he had just taken some time to spend with his family. Helen had begged him to take a vacation or to simply come home at night. Instead he'd continued to bury himself with work. No wonder Helen wanted out of the marriage.

Sherlock and John entered the room, their fingers intertwined. They walked down the aisles together and stood in front of the registrar. They exchanged a few words and Mycroft and John's sister Harry signed as witnesses. Greg tried to pay attention but he was so busy milling over his own divorce that he couldn't. He did, however, notice how happy Sherlock and John looked. Had he looked like that at his own wedding? He could scarcely remember.

When they were finished and Sherlock and John kissed, Lestrade rose to his feet and clapped along with everyone else. John was blushing a deep red and Sherlock was beaming. The happy couple were shuffled off for pictures while the guests were herded into the adjoining room for the reception. Lestrade quickly made his way over to the bar and ordered a scotch, downing it in one and asking for another.

"Bad day?" Sherlock mused. Greg turned to find an irritatingly blissful Sherlock and John standing next to him.

"Congratulations." Greg said and he actually meant it.

"Thank you." John said tilting his head up at Sherlock, who responded by giving him a quick kiss.

"You two look happy." He said giving them a faint smile.

"You look downright miserable." John replied, concerned.

"It's not important, I don't want to bring down the party. I think I'll probably just go home." He said and then reminded himself that he didn't have a home anymore. Jesus, where was he going to sleep tonight?

"No, please stay. It would mean so much to us." John said and then looked over at Sherlock expectantly.

"Sure it would." Sherlock added half-heartedly, clearly distracted by his own happiness.

"Come on, I think we're supposed to dance." John said tugging at Sherlock's sleeve.

"Sorry about your divorce." Sherlock said before John pulled him away. Greg didn't bother to ask how Sherlock knew. He'd long ago learned not to bother trying to hide anything from the man. He got another scotch and went to find his seat. He was at a table near the back where the only person he knew was Mrs. Hudson. She was blubbering, dabbing her eyes with a napkin and going on and on about how happy she was for her boys.

Greg watched as Sherlock and John held each other, swaying to the music. They looked good together, if not a bit strange in their extreme contrast. Still, anyone who knew them was aware of how well they fit. Greg sighed and sipped his drink. He'd never felt anything like that with Helen. Maybe it had been doomed from the start.

His eyes wandered around the room until they finally settled on Mycroft. Mycroft was watching Sherlock and John, a smile playing on his lips. Then his eyes turned to Greg and he wasn't sure if he should look away or let Mycroft know he had been staring. He decided on the latter and held his gaze. Mycroft got up and went to the buffet table and Greg followed suit.

"Hello Gregory." Mycroft said when Greg got a plate and started piling food onto it. Mycroft was taking considerably less food and Greg was reminded of Mycroft's diet. Apparently that was still in play. They moved together down the line, only talking when Greg asked Mycroft what something he didn't recognize was.

"It was a lovely ceremony."

"Indeed." Mycroft agreed.

"Do you mind that your brother settled down before you did?"

"Not at all. I'm quite happy for them. I never thought Sherlock would allow himself to feel this way about another person."

"I think it took everyone by surprise."

There was a lull in the conversation as they continued to move down the table. Greg had acquired quite a mountain of food and was certain he couldn't eat that much even if he sat there all night working on it. It was quite an impressive spread.

"But you simply must try it." Mycroft insisted when Greg passed over some strange gray thing with a French name. "It's delicious."

"No thank you."

"Oh just a taste." Mycroft said, dipping his finger into the gray stuff on his plate and lifting it to Greg's lips. Without thinking, he took the finger into his mouth and sucked. Both of their eyes widened in shock and they broke apart quickly.

"It is good." Greg mumbled, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

"Please excuse me." Mycroft said abandoning his plate and hurrying from the room. Greg stared after him for a moment and then left his plate as well, heading in the direction Mycroft had disappeared to. He found him in a deserted hallway, leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths.

"Mycroft?" He said gently, not wanting to spook him.

"I'm…I'm so sorry Gregory, I don't know what came over me." Mycroft said, straightening up and brushing some nonexistent dirt off his suit.

"It's fine."

"No it isn't. I'll be sure to behave with more decorum in the future."

"Mycroft." Greg practically growled, putting his hands on either side of the wall to trap him in. "It's fine."

Mycroft blinked at him in surprise until Greg crushed his mouth against his. Mycroft kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm. Mycroft broke the kiss to press his lips all over Greg's face, to his chin, his cheeks, his forehead, before moving down and sucking at his neck. "Gregory." Mycroft sighed against his skin.

"I want you." Greg said, pushing his fingers into Mycroft's hair. "I want to fuck you so badly."

"Here? Now?" Mycroft asked, sounding alarmed at the idea of it.

"Right here, right now. I can't wait." Greg replied, pressing his crotch against Mycroft's leg so he could see just how achingly hard he was. He reached down and began undoing Mycroft's belt, letting it fall open and got to work on his zip. Mycroft kissed him, hard, the frantic nature of his tongue expressing just how much he wanted it as well.

Greg grabbed Mycroft's arm and turned him so he was facing the wall. Mycroft braced himself up against it as Greg tore open his own trousers. He pushed Mycroft's down to his thighs, revealing his amazing ass. Then he shoved his own underwear away, freeing his cock. He licked his palm, covering it in spit before lathering it onto his prick. He gripped himself by the base and pushed the head against Mycroft's opening.

"Yes." Mycroft hissed, his head hanging forward. "Do it."

Greg obliged, pushing himself further inside. Mycroft shifted and squirmed, his breath catching from the burn. Greg went slowly, slower than he would have liked, until there was nowhere left to go. The zipper of his fly was pressing into the creamy flesh of Mycroft's bottom, leaving indentations. He pushed his trousers down a bit so it would hurt once he started moving.

Greg put both his hand on Mycroft's hips, his fingers digging in as he started to move. Mycroft gasped as Greg pushed himself in and out with even thrusts. He rested his forehead on Mycroft's back as he started pounding into him with abandon.

"Christ My, so tight. So good. Fuck." He said, unable to form complete sentences.

Mycroft moved back, leaning slightly into Greg's thrusts so he was going up and in. They'd done this enough times that Greg knew exactly where to hit to make it good for Mycroft. He could hear muffled moans coming from his lover as Mycroft bit his bottom lip to keep from making too much noise.

Greg tilted his head up so his mouth was close to Mycroft's ear and he was whispering into it. "I know just how to fuck you, don't I? Have you missed me?"

Mycroft nodded, unable to verbally respond.

"Have you missed my cock?" he asked as he buried himself to the hilt and snapped his hips just so, making Mycroft whimper. "Have you?"

Another nod.

"Say it." Greg commanded, shoving himself hard and deep on each thrust.

"Yes Gregory. Oh God yes. I've missed every bit of you."

"Do I make you feel good?"

"So good. Amazing. Fantastic. Extraordinary." Mycroft said breathlessly, holding himself against the wall to keep from smacking into it with Greg's powerful thrusts.

Mycroft began moving his hips back, meeting Greg's thrusts, impaling himself on Greg's cock. They slid together and apart, skin slapping against skin until Greg felt his orgasm getting ready to overtake him. He gripped Mycroft's hip, digging his fingers in as with a few quick, final erratic thrusts, he came hard with a deep groan.

He pulled out and spun Mycroft around, curling his hand around Mycroft's heavy and leaking prick and with a few twisting pulls, brought his lover to completion, stifling his cry with his mouth pressed against his. Mycroft leaned against the wall looking boneless, as if his legs were about to give out at any second. Greg pulled up his trousers and did his fly. He pressed gently kisses to Mycroft's red and swollen lips and used Mycroft's hanky to clean them up. Mycroft looked slightly dazed, as if he hadn't recovered from his orgasm yet. It took a while but he finally started kissing Greg back.

Greg pulled up Mycroft's trousers, tucking him back into his underwear and zipping him up. He wrapped his arm around Mycroft and pulled him to him, nuzzling his head in his lover's neck.

"I thought you said that wasn't going to happen again." Mycroft said when he finally got his breath back.

"Don't worry, we're not cheating."

"No?" Mycroft asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Helen's divorcing me."

"Why?"

"For working too much." Greg said nipping at the skin under Mycroft's ear. "But I don't think it helped that I was in love with someone else."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Gregory." Mycroft said, his tone serious. "We've tried this before. It doesn't work."

"I don't care." Greg said hugging him tighter. "I'm going to keep trying, over and over, until it does work. I want that, I want this, with you. I'm never going to stop wanting it."

"I feel the same way." Mycroft said running his fingers through Greg's hair.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Mycroft pressed his lips to Greg's head, kissing the top of it. He turned his head and rubbed his cheek against Greg's hair and murmured something that sounded like "My Angel."


	5. Chapter 5

Mycroft's footsteps were the only sound as he made his way through the empty building of New Scotland Yard. Most of the lights were off but lucky Mycroft knew exactly where he was going. The end of his umbrella clicked against the tiles of the floor, echoing in the empty room. He turned at the desk he knew belonged to Sgt. Donovan and headed into the corner office.

Greg was there, slumped over his desk, snoring gently and drooling on some very important case files. Mycroft smiled affectionately and leaned over to press a kiss to Greg's temple, running his fingers through his lover's hair. "Gregory, time to come home my love." Mycroft said gently. Greg mumbled something in reply before his eyes fluttered open. He glanced up at Mycroft, looking somewhat puzzled.

"Christ." He said wiping the corner of his mouth and sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Just after three in the morning. I fear you would have slept here all night if I hadn't come to collect you."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Greg grumbled, scrubbing his hand over his face.

"Come, let me take you home." Mycroft said, holding out his hand.

"Sounds good." Greg replied, letting Mycroft pull him to his feet. There was a brief kiss before they left, holding hands as they went.

XXXX

"Gregory." Mycroft said as Greg pressed up against him, attacking Mycroft's throat. Greg had just come home from work and they only had an hour before Mycroft had to be on a plane to Hong Kong. "Gregory." Mycroft tried again in an attempt to stop the proceedings. Greg didn't seem to be paying attention, as he was too busy trying to push Mycroft's suit jacket off.

"Gregory!" Mycroft hissed sharply, directly into his ear.

"What?" Greg groaned, finally pulling away.

"Hi daddy!" Maddy said walking into the room with a cup of juice in her hand and a packet of crisps.

"Christ." Greg said dropping his head against Mycroft's shoulder. "I completely forgot she was going to be here."

"Yes, I rather thought you had but there are some thing I don't think a seven year old should see." Mycroft chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to Greg's cheek.

"God, we're never going to have sex again." Greg said with a heavy with.

"Do not give up on us yet my love, there is still hope." Mycroft cupped Greg's face in his hand as Greg pressed into the touch. Mycroft gave him a chaste kiss before pulling away. "Now Madeline, I believe your television programme comes on in a few minutes. Why don't we get settled in and let daddy go take a shower, a nice cold one." Mycroft said pointedly as he took Maddy's hand and led her from the room.

"Why does daddy need a cold shower? Sounds dreadful." Maddy replied, making a face.

"I'm afraid daddy is running a bit of a temperature and needs to cool off." Mycroft explained and heard Greg snort from the other room.

"Oh." Maddy said, thinking this over for a moment. "Feel better daddy."

"Thank you sweetheart." Greg called back before Mycroft heard him head to the bathroom. A few moments later the water turned on and Mycroft settled in next to Madeline. He watched some god awful children's programme meant to help teach kids Spanish by having a large headed little girl stare at you. He was almost grateful when it came time for him to leave.

He had just gotten the last of his things together when Gregory padded out of the bathroom in his dressing gown and slippers, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. "So you're off then?" he asked, trying hard to hide his frown but Mycroft saw it anyway.

"Unfortunately yes. I'll be home by this weekend." He promised, leaning in and giving Greg a quick kiss on the lips.

Greg grabbed his lapels and pulled him back in, crushing Mycroft's body against his. "Gregory." Mycroft moaned softly, pulling himself away with some difficulty. Greg didn't let him go far but allowed their lips to part. "I'd hate to leave you in need of another shower."

"It'd be worth it." Greg murmured, sucking at the bottom of Mycroft's ear.

"Must I remind you that your adolescent daughter is in the next room?" Mycroft asked in exasperation.

"It's about time she learned about human anatomy." Greg shrugged, licking down to Mycroft's neck and nibbling at his skin.

"It really isn't." Mycroft said breathlessly, melting into Gregory despite everything.

"Alright, I know." Greg huffed out a breath and pulled away. "I'll behave."

"I don't like this anymore than you do Gregory. We'll make time for each other when I return." Mycroft promised, lacing his fingers through Greg's and lifting their conjoined hand to his lips to kiss the back of Greg's hand.

"I know we will, I just miss you. Our lives are so bloody hectic that it seems like even when we get a moment together it's just a tiny window before the next thing crops up."

"Soon my angel." Mycroft brushed his cheek against the back of Greg's hand. "I have plans for us when I return, but till then…"

"Right, I know. You'll call me when you land?" Greg asked, always nervous when Mycroft left the country.

"If I can. If not I'll send a quick text to let you know I've arrived safely."

"I suppose it'll have to do."

Mycroft reached down and pulled Greg's dressing gown aside for a nice view of his cock. Greg raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? I need something to keep me going. Chinese Diplomats are so tedious and dull with the most dreadful sense of humor." Mycroft informed him, eyes roving over Greg's genitalia before covering him back up.

"I would have thought you'd have seen it enough times to have it memorized." Greg teased.

"The memories grown hazy as of late."

"I know. As soon as you get back, we are having sex, damn it." Greg said with determination.

"That is one promise I sincerely hope you keep."

"I intend to." Greg guaranteed, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and holding him close.

"Love you." Mycroft said before giving him a deep kiss meant to show affection but not get Greg excited again.

"Love you too"

XXXX

Mycroft arrived home from Hong Kong just after one in the morning on Friday. As he walked through their flat, he was careful to keep his footsteps light so as not to wake the other members of his household. He stopped by Madeline's room first, to make sure she was asleep before he went to his own room.

He undressed quickly and efficiently, folding everything neatly before slipping into bed next to Gregory. He was asleep on his back, gently snoring, a sound that Mycroft had found he was unable to fall asleep without on occasion. Mycroft scooted closer and pressed soft kisses to his lover's lips, his hand rubbing his stomach and slowly moving down.

"You're home." Greg said with a sleepy grin.

"I am indeed."

"Maddy asleep?"

"She is, I checked on her before I came in." Mycroft informed him, moving his hand lower.

"She could still wake up though." Greg said, his body tensing.

"That is why we are going to be very, very quiet." Mycroft said before forming his mouth around Gregory's and kissing him deeply as his hand descended into Greg's underwear. Greg groaned, the sound muffled by their lips, as Mycroft stroked him slowly.

"Finally." Greg said breathlessly. "Oh God finally."

"Shh." Mycroft warned, trialing his lips down until they had settled at the hallow of Greg's neck.

He started twisting his hand on his upstrokes, his thumb circling the head. "God Mycroft don't tease me, it's been too long." Greg whispered.

Mycroft nodded and curled his hands into a fist, pumping Greg's cock hard and fast. Greg was thrusting up into his fist, biting his own to keep from making noises that might wake Maddy. Mycroft could feel Greg dripping with precome and he desperately needed to free his own trapped erection but instead rubbed himself against Greg's thigh. It wasn't enough but he knew Gregory needed this more than he did.

Greg came, crushing their lips together to stifle the noises he was making. He simply had to reach down and touch Mycroft once before he came as well, spilling himself in his pants, which felt somewhat undignified.

"That was not nearly enough for me to show you how much I've missed you." Greg said between kisses.

"Don't worry, I've made plans for this weekend. We'll have more than enough time. I've also made certain that not a single person in the whole of London will be murdered between now and Monday and threatened your entire staff with execution should they even attempt to call you."

Greg chuckled, running his fingers through Mycroft's hair. "And when did you find time to do all that?"

"It was a long flight." Mycroft smiled.

"Daddy?" Maddy said with a knock on the door.

Mycroft and Greg's eyes both widened in panic. They flung themselves from the bed and changed out of their soiled underwear, throwing them into the hamper and changing into clean pajamas. "Just a second." Greg called through the door, which Mycroft had thankfully had the forethought to lock.

When they were decent, Mycroft gave Greg a quick kiss before heading to the bed and slipping under the covers while Greg opened the door. "Are you alright sweetheart?" Greg asked, bending down on his knees so he was face to face with his daughter.

"Is Mycroft home?" Maddy asked, shifting from foot to foot at the door.

"Yep." Greg answered, opening the door wider so she could see him. "He's right there."

"Mycroft!" Maddy exclaimed, rushing over to the bed and jumping up into it. She wrapped her arms around him and Mycroft hugged her back, looking over at Greg with bewilderment. Greg simply smiled in reply. "Oh, I was so worried about you. Daddy and I both missed you a lot."

"I missed you both too." Mycroft said giving her a squeeze. He was still somewhat thrown by Madeline's reaction to him. While he hadn't directly been involved in splitting her parents up, he still had expected some resentment towards him. Greg having a daughter had been a cause for some concern when they had finally decided to give this a real go but somehow it had all been sorted rather nicely. He certainly had never expected to be any good with her. He'd had very little experience with children. Still, he didn't think he was doing too terrible of a job and trusted that Gregory would inform him if he were.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to sleep in here tonight." Greg said with a faked heavy sigh. He gave Mycroft a subtle wink and they shared a sneaky smile.

"Yes please, can I?" Maddy asked, her face lighting up.

"Mycroft?" Greg asked, leaving the decision up to him.

"I suppose that would be acceptable."

Greg got into the bed and the three of them snuggled in with Maddy between them. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep and the two men stared at each other over her head. "Thank you." Greg mouthed. Mycroft nodded his head in response and soon he fell asleep feeling more loved than he could ever remember.

XXXX

"Thank God you're a bloody genius because I never would have thought of this." Greg said putting his suitcase down and attacking Mycroft the moment they were through the door of the cottage in Brighton.

"Indeed." Mycroft said pulling at Greg's clothes. He had rather expected to get the tour in before they started shagging but then Gregory never did things according to plan. Instead it seemed they'd be christening the front hall.

"Do you want me to slow down?" Greg asked after he already had Mycroft naked from the waist down and on his back on the hardwood floor, his shirt still on but ripped open to reveal his torso.

"Whole weekend Gregory. We can make love later, right now you are free to fuck me."

"Christ I love hearing you swear in that proper English voice of yours." Greg said pawing at his suitcase to get the lubricant he'd stashed in the outside pocket.

"Really?" Mycroft asked, wondering how vulgar language was a turn on.

"Definitely." Greg nodded, finally finding the lube. He slicked up two fingers and pressed them straight inside, skillfully finding Mycroft's prostate on the first go.

"Gregory." Mycroft gasped, arching his back.

Greg didn't waste much time in preparing him and soon had his cock slicked up. He slid home on the first go. "Oh God." They both moaned. Mycroft curled his legs around Greg, his arms around his shoulders, holding him close. Greg set a fairly quick pace, thrusting deeply and hitting Mycroft's prostate dead on.

"Shit." Mycroft hissed, digging his nails into Greg's back.

"More." Greg pleaded.

"Bugger." Mycroft said, indulging his lover. "Bullocks."

"Don't stop, keep going." Greg begged as he drove in and out, in and out.

"Oh God Gregory, your cock. You have no idea what it does to me, how good it feels inside my arse."

"Jesus." Greg said, looking surprised. Mycroft felt slightly ridiculous but Greg seemed to be enjoying it so he kept going.

"Or in my mouth, feeling you throbbing and heavy against my tongue."

Greg's reply was simply a strangled moan as he began moving fast, ramming into Mycroft hard.

"I live to have you fuck me Gregory. To suck you off and have you come down my throat. To have you inside me anyway possible."

"My, My, My." Greg chanted, placing sloppy kisses wherever his lips landed.

"Touch me Gregory. Touch my cock and make me come. Let me come for you."  
>"I can't." Greg cried out in frustration. "Not without losing my rhythm and it's so good. I'm so close. Keep talking."<p>

"I guess my own hand will have to suffice. Or perhaps I can hold off until you finish and let you suck me off. Would you like that Gregory?" Mycroft asked, digging his heels into Greg's arse as Gregory brushed against his sweet spot.

"Christ yes."

"Have you on your knees while I fuck your mouth? Make you take every bit of me into you until I disappear into it entirely."  
>"Fuck. Oh God, oh God."<p>

"You know just how to fuck me Gregory. Am I tight?"

"Yes." Greg answered with some difficulty.

"I can make myself tighter for you." Mycroft replied, clenching his body around Greg's cock.

"Mycroft!" Greg shouted as he came, his body shuddering until he was empty. He gently eased out of his lover. "For Christ's sake My, I had no idea you were so filthy."

"You asked me for it." Mycroft shrugged as Greg began kissing down his body.

"I asked you to swear not act like a bloody sex chat-line worker." Greg laughed against Mycroft's skin.

"You seemed to be enjoying it."

"Oh I did. Next time you go out of the country we are most definitely having phone sex."

"I'm surprised you didn't mention doing so before."  
>"Never thought you'd be interested but now that I know how good you'll be at it, I almost can't wait for you to leave again."<p>

Mycroft pouted and Greg laughed again. "Don't worry, I still prefer having you here. It's always nice to try something new though." Greg said before dipping his tongue into Mycroft's belly button.

Before Mycroft could respond, Greg had moved lower and formed his mouth around Mycroft's prick. He worked the head, tongue swirling around it before he sunk lower. He grabbed Mycroft's legs, throwing them over his shoulders so Mycroft's legs were hanging down his back, tipping his hips up. He slipped his fingers back into Mycroft's hole, still wet with come and lubricant. Mycroft twisted his fingers into his lover's hair and held out for as long as possible, writhing on the floor in ecstasy. He didn't last long and soon he was coming into Gregory's mouth, hands tightening in his hair.

Greg swallowed it down and then licked Mycroft clean of what he couldn't get the first time. Then he rested his head on Mycroft's stomach and they both tried to get their breath back. Greg placed sucking kisses on Mycroft's stomach while the other man caressed Greg's hair tenderly.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

XXXX

"Mycroft, I am so sorry to do this to you, but I'm swamped at work and I'm supposed to pick up Maddy from school in half an hour. Is there any way you can do it?"

"Yes, of course Gregory."

"And I don't just mean sending a car. I don't want her getting into some strange black monstrosity with no idea who's driving her where. I mean you actually physically going and getting her." Greg clarified. Even though he still didn't know everything about what Mycroft did, he'd had his share of getting into strange black cars and not even knowing if it was Mycroft who had sent it.

"Yes, I'll pick up Madeline myself. Does this mean you won't be home tonight?"

"No, this will hopefully be wrapped up by dinner time. Tell Maddy I love her and that I'll see her soon."

"I will."

XXXX

"I mean it Mycroft, we're done. I've had it. This is absolutely the last fucking straw." Greg yelled, pacing in front of the sofa where Mycroft sat frozen, unable to do anything but take the abuse.

Mycroft had been detained in picking Madeline up that afternoon, having trouble dealing with the U.N. So he even though it was against Greg's wishes, he had sent a car. But he had made sure Peggy went so Madeline would at least recognize a familiar face. Unfortunately someone must have found a way to listen in to Mycroft's conversation (he believed they had hacked into Gregory's mobile) and Madeline had been kidnapped.

She was safe now, of course. The ransom had been paid but before the kidnappers could spend a cent, they'd been caught and were sent to the worst prison Mycroft could think of. Still, it didn't stop Gregory from being furious. Madeline had been taken to her mother's with heavy security detail while Gregory dealt with Mycroft.

"It's bad enough that you broke your promise to me and didn't go to pick up Maddy yourself, like I asked, but then she gets fucking kidnapped. I can't believe you'd be so irresponsible with my fucking daughter. What if she had died? What if the kidnappers had abused her? For Christ's sake Mycroft she's only eleven. She could have been raped. How could you put my daughter through that? Well, it doesn't matter because we're moving out and then my daughter will be out of harm's way."

"Will you allow me to speak now?" Mycroft asked calmly.

"Fine." Gregory said, still shaking with anger.

"I understand why you're upset but even if I had gone to collect Madeline myself, the kidnappers still could have gotten there before me. I am not infallible Gregory, I do make mistakes. I, however, never wished for any harm to come to you or your daughter. But to believe she's safe simply by removing me from the equation is naïve. You have made many enemies over the years Gregory and any of them could have sought retaliation by hurting her. Nevermind the fact that she lives in a large, crowded city where anything could happen to her. I accept that I am entirely to blame for what happened today and all I can do is say I'm sorry. Even though Madeline is not my family, I care for her a great deal and even if you leave me, I will take every precaution to make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

"You idiot." Greg said grabbing Mycroft by the lapels and pulling him up to his feet. He didn't let go until they had moved into the bedroom and began undressing him. "Of course she's your family. They wouldn't have gone after he if they didn't know she was important to you."

Greg stripped them both quickly and pushed Mycroft down onto the bed, kissing him roughly. Mycroft flipped them over so he was on top, quickly grabbed the lube from the bedside table to slick Greg up. He gripped the base of Greg's cock and sunk down without preparation. He threw his head back and waited for the burn to subside before he gripped the headboard of the bed and began to move. They stared at each other as they fucked, neither of them saying a word. The only sound in the room was skin on skin and heavy breathing.

They were both frightened and they showed it in their eyes. Greg of what happened today, Mycroft of losing the only real family he'd ever had. There was need and want and terror as they fucked slowly, Mycroft wondering if this was the last time.

He came silently from nothing more than the feeling of Greg inside him and the detective's penetrating stare. Greg soon followed, filling Mycroft without making a sound. Their eyes were glistening with tears as they both cried from the sheer horror of what could have happened today and neither of them knowing what would happen next.

Finally, Greg reached up and curled his hand around the nape of Mycroft's neck, bringing him down for a kiss. The kissed slowly, tenderly and Mycroft savored each and every one of them, not knowing how many he was going to get or which would be the last.

"Is this you saying goodbye?" Mycroft whispered when they finally broke apart.

Greg flipped them again and pressed Mycroft into the mattress before kissing him some more. "No. I'm through saying goodbye to you. I didn't mean it earlier, I was just upset. I've lived enough of my life without you and the years you were gone were no good, in fact they were absolute rubbish. So, you've got me for as long as you want me."

"Always, my angel. I'll always want you."

"Good. Then you have me."

"Gregory, I wonder if you would, if you'd like to…will you marry me?" Mycroft stumbled a bit out of nervousness but at least he got the words out.

"Wondered when you were finally going to get around the asking." Greg murmured.

"You knew?"

"You're not as sneaky as you think you are. I found the rings hidden in the umbrella stand when I was looking for Maddy's gloves."

"Is that a yes then?"

"Of course it's a yes."

XXXX

The next morning Greg awoke to the aroma of apples and bacon. He got dressed, never taking his eyes off the ring on his finger. Mycroft had insisted he try it on the night before, just to make sure it fit and of course it was perfect. He'd fallen asleep wearing it and now he didn't want to take it off. Still, it would be back on his finger soon enough so he slipped it off and placed it back in the box next to the identical one intended for Mycroft.

He padded into the kitchen to find Maddy at the table, a plate of food in front of her that she was wolfing down. She smiled at her father when he came in and he looked at Mycroft for an explanation.

"I went and collected Madeline from her mother's this morning, and yes I myself went and did this, saying that she was desperately needed at home."

"For pancakes!" Maddy said happily around a mouthful of food.

"My way of apologizing to her." Mycroft said with a shy smile.

"Apple cinnamon?" Greg asked heading over to Mycroft and giving him a quick kiss.

"What else?" Mycroft asked, his smile widening.

"Perfect." Greg wrapped his arm around Mycroft's waist before grabbing a strip of bacon and taking a large bite.

"You already have a plate on the table." Mycroft said gesturing to a heaping plate next to Maddy's.

"One can never have too much bacon." Greg shrugged, taking another piece before sitting down at the table, giving his daughter a wink.

"One can, it's called a heart attack." Mycroft said, turning off the burner and joining them with his much more modest plate. "Now, we have important business to discuss, the first being the wedding."

"You already told her?" Greg asked, slightly disappointed.

"I'm afraid I let it slip this morning in the car." Mycroft blushed and actually looked a bit embarrassed.

"Are you ok with that?" Greg asked Maddy, concerned.

"Of course, I think it's brilliant." Maddy replied, beaming away. "Besides, you two are a little old to just be boyfriends."

Greg started choking on the bacon in his mouth until Mycroft slapped his back and the bacon dislodged from his throat. Mycroft continued on as if nothing had happened. "Anyways, I was thinking of just a quiet ceremony with a few friends and family, nothing big or hectic unless that's what you want."

"No, quiet is nice. I'd rather have an intimate ceremony anyway." Greg agreed and Mycroft beamed at him.

"There was another matter I'd like to discuss." Mycroft said calmly, cutting his pancake into perfect squares.

"Which is?"

"I consider you both of you to be my family, I'd like to make this a bit more official. Greg will be taken care of with the civil partnership but Madeline, and this is entirely up to you, I'd like very much to adopt you."

"Really?" Maddy asked.

"But why?" Greg chimed in, confused.

"We live dangerous lives Gregory, we both know that and were sadly reminded of it yesterday. While it doesn't bear thinking about, something could happen to you. In the event of that, I would very much like to still be able to be a part of Madeline's life." Mycroft explained.

Greg chewed on his lip thoughtfully for a moment and then turned to his daughter. "What do you think?"

"I'd love it." Maddy answered, taking both Mycroft and Greg's hands in hers.

"I'm glad." Mycroft said, reaching over and taking Greg's hand too, forming a weird circle.

Greg smiled and raised their conjoined hands, kissing first Mycroft's and then Maddy's. This was his family now, surrounded by the two people he loved most in the world.

XXXX

"Come on My, we've only got ten minutes before you get on yet another plane and then I'm not going to see you for a week. We've been at it for half an hour, will you just come already?" Greg grunted, thrusting into him over and over.

"I can't." Mycroft whined. He was currently bent over his desk, leaking precome and achingly hard. He just wanted to come but he'd been hard for an hour before Gregory even arrived, after their phone call when Greg had mentioned he was planning on stopping by. Now his body just refused to release even though Greg was jerking him with a skilled hand.

"This is our last shag before we're married. The next time I'm inside you, it'll be as your husband." Greg said softly, pressing kisses to the nape of Mycroft's neck.

"Gah!" Mycroft cried out, spilling himself over the desk and Greg's hand. Greg toppled over the edge as well, finally letting himself come too.

"Seriously?" Greg asked, gently pulling out. "That's what finally did it?"

"I liked you calling yourself my husband. It sounded so lovely." Mycroft admitted, turning around to wrap his arms around Gregory's neck. They kissed slowly and unhurriedly even though they were down to eight minutes.

"One more week and it will be official."

Mycroft sighed. "I could cancel the trip. I feel awful about leaving right before the wedding."

"It's fine, it'll make the wedding night better and I want to spend as much time with Maddy as possible before since we'll be gone for two weeks on our honeymoon."

"Hmm." Mycroft hummed happily. "I'm looking forward to it."

"I'm warning you now Mycroft, this trip better not take longer than expected. If it gets to be Sunday and I'm there all by myself, I will hunt you down."

"I wouldn't dream of disappointing you like that my love." Mycroft promised.

"Good." Greg nodded, appeased.

"And look." Mycroft said sitting down on his desk, wrapping his legs around Greg and pulling him close. "We've still got five whole minutes."  
>"Even if I could get it up again, I don't think I'm quite capable of that." Greg laughed.<p>

"It's enough time for you to kiss me until I can't breathe."

"Now that I can definitely do."

They ended up kissing for six minutes with Mycroft's fingers tangled into Greg's hair and Greg's hands braced on the desk, leaning into him. They didn't pull apart until Peggy came in, coughing tactfully to alert them of her presence. They broke away and fixed their clothes.

"Till next week." Mycroft said giving Greg a quick kiss.

Greg grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "I'll definitely be calling you over the week to have you do that thing you do so well. Make sure you answer your phone." Greg whispered into his ear before pressing a kiss to Mycroft's cheek.

"Oh Gregory." Mycroft gasped, blushing a bit.

"Have a good trip." Greg said pulling away.

Mycroft stared after him for a moment before remembering he had to be on a plane to Greece. He gathered up his things, checked to make sure everything was in place and following Peggy out the door. The next time he'd see Gregory, it would be their wedding day.

XXXX

Mycroft Holmes and Gregory Lestrade were married on a rainy Sunday in May. It was a small, quiet ceremony that included Sherlock, John, Peggy, Madeline, a few of Greg's close friends and a few important people it would have been rude not to invite. Their vows were simple as they promised their lives to each other.

That night they were on a plane to Venice, their seats reclined as they lied on their sides facing each other. Their newly ringed hands were twined together and they pressed lazy kisses to each other's lips. Greg had his free hand on Mycroft's knee, rubbing it gently.

"In one day I've gained a husband and a daughter. It's more than I'd ever hoped to have in my life." Mycroft mused, moving his hand up to stroke Gregory's cheek.

"I never thought I'd get to have this with you. I've wanted it, ever since that first night in your flat."

"So much wasted time." Mycroft agreed with a heavy sigh.

"Still, it's good we didn't get together before it was right."

"True, and now I get to spend the rest of my days with an actual family."

"The rest of our days. I like the sound of it."

"You have them, my angel. Every day I have left is yours."

"And you have mine."


End file.
